Massages
by Stromael
Summary: Jaune gives Yang a massage. Hilarity/drama/romance/thinly veiled polyship subplots ensue, but this time with better writing and less jumping the shark. Emphasis on the drama without crossing the sharkline. There will be plot, character development, blond's with deep-rooted issues, and more story than just some massages and hanky-panky.
1. Yellow Beauty

**whoops**

* * *

Yang groaned as she shifted back and forth in the armchair, pain lancing through her lower back as she desperately tried to find a comfortable position to sit in. At the present moment, she was proving very unsuccesful, as shown by the groans and pained hisses as she squirmed on top of the leather seat.

Professor Peach could take her "One must practice discipline, so you all will always remain sitting in excellent posture!" and shove it right up her-

Yang smashed her fist into the wooden armrest, splintering and charring the wood slightly, biting her lip as a strangled gasp blew past her lips. God, this hurt!

There was a knock on the door, and Yang tried to call out for them to go away, but all she could manage was another, choked cry. She had never experienced back pains of this severity, and if this continued she'd have to go to the Medical Office to see what they could do.

After a moment, the door opened slowly and Yang whirled around without thinking to tell them to leave, only to cry out and fall from the chair as agony struck her light a lightning bolt.

"Yang!? What's wrong!?"

Tears in her eyes, she lifted herself up, not even able to bring herself to push Jaune away as he fluttered about her nervously, "M-my back," she gasped, "h-hurts."

Jaune gently placed a hand on her shoulder, "Is, is there anything I can do?" he asked worriedly. "Do you need help going to the Nurse?"

"N-no," she gasped, "just, just help me back on the chair."

He did his best, lifting her up and pulling his hands away from her skin like they'd been burned (and they might've been,) every time her breath hitched with pain, and with a sigh of relief she finally slumped back into the armchair, slowly trying to calm her breathing.

"What, uh, what happened?" Jaune ventured with no small amount of trepidation.

"Peach." Yang snapped, feeling a little bad when Jaune flinched back. "Sorry," she amended, "It's just that her stupid posture rules are killing me."

It was at this point that Jaune had a very strange thought. A subject that he had not thought about in at least five years at this point, but considering the circumstances…

"Maybe you should get a massage?" he ventured.

Yang tilted her head, winced, then returned to the posture that she had finally found that didn't hurt, contemplating it. "I dunno," she admitted, "I don't know anyone who could give me one, and we don't have enough free time for me to get one in town after every one of her classes. Do you know anyone?"

Jaune almost looked vaguely embarrassed, "I don't know anyone who gives massages but, uh," he paused, rubbing the back of his head and looking away slightly, "I used to give my sisters back rubs when they would get pains, they seemed to think i was alright but I'm pretty sure they were just leading me on.." he trailed off, cheeks pink.

Yang was, as one might expect, wary of this. She was well aware of the many guys that would kill for a chance to 'massage,' her, and yet, she, for the life of her, couldn't imagine Jaune, wimpy, weak Jaune, being near bold enough to try something like that.

Pain lanced up the base of her spine once more.

Ah, what the hell.

"Well, let's find out if you're any good or not." she said, bracing her hand on the armrest as she shifted around, straddling the chair and facing a dumbfounded Jaune.

"Uh, what?" he asked intelligently.

"Give it a shot," she rephrased, "worst case, you'll do nothing, best case, you'll make me feel better."

"I, uh, well, I mean…"

Yang rolled her eyes, "do you want to help or not?" She snapped.

Jaune's features settled at that.

Huh.

He stepped past her, sitting down on Weiss's bed, which Yang noted to never tell her about, hesitated for a moment, and then gently placed his hands on Yang's tank-top-clad back.

A few moments passed as his fingers brushed up and down her back, before both hands settled on her shoulders and his palms kneaded in.

Things got pretty hazy after that.

* * *

Blake's bow twitched before she even knew what she had heard.

She stopped, raising a hand to cut Weiss off mid-rant, turning her head towards the sound that she wasn't even sure was real. The halls were thankfully empty, it being late in the evening.

Weiss opened her mouth to make some indignant remark, but Blake's hand clapped over her lips before she could make a sound, shushing her fiercely.

After a few seconds, and with a sudden shudder, Blake wished she had let Weiss rant as loud as she wanted.

Was that...Yang? And was she…?

Well, Yang was a hormonal teenager, but still, did she have to be so...loud?

Of course, Blake knew that Yang really wasn't being that loud, but now that she had zeroed in on the...sound, she couldn't stop hearing it.

Weiss's eyes, having narrowed in the time that Blake was listening, rolled angrily as she swatted her teammates hand away from her mouth. She breathed in to snap something at Blake, then stopped, cocked her head to the left even as alarms began screaming in Blake's mind as she opened her own mouth to say something anything just don't let her-

A combination of horror, disgust, and rapidly growing fury blossomed on the heiresses scarred - now scarlet face, and as she opened her mouth to shriek, Blake caught a muttered phrase from behind the door.

"H-higher," a gasping voice groaned out, "b-between my, ah, my s-shoulders."

Oh.

 _Oh_.

Blake's hand snapped over Weiss mouth once more, wincing as Weiss somehow seemed to get angrier, and with a muttered swear Blake put her shoulder to Weiss's gut, lifted up her shorter teammate and sped off away from their dorm room.

Whoever it was in there owed her, big time.

* * *

Jaune knew he wasn't near as smart as some of his friends, but even he knew just what this sounded like, and that made it three times as awkward. After a point he had stopped guessing and was pretty sure that Yang was over exaggerating her...reactions...just to make him uncomfortable.

It was working.

His fingers trailed down the skin of Yang's shoulders as he turned his focus from her very distracting noises to the actual massage he was trying to give. It had been...quite some time, considering, but surprisingly enough his hands just seemed to know what to do. He could feel the knots and tightness in her back, and his palms kneaded into them with more confidence than he thought he could have, working through the tight muscle groups, moving on when each one had unraveled.

It was cathartic, in a way. If not for the golden waves of hair streaming down her back, he might have convinced himself he was back at home, helping out one of his many sisters after a tiresome day.

Of course, Yang's groaning and heavy moaning didn't exactly help either. At some point she had stopped giving him verbal directions and just dissolved into a bubbling heap of gasps and incoherent mumbles of satisfaction beneath his fingers.

His hands crept lower, working out kinks in her sides and lower back, before he decided that he had gone too far down for comfort. It's not as it his hands strayed a little too long beneath the hem of her shirt, her skin smooth and fair, fingers twitching to keep trailing down to the firm looking slopes of her-

Okay, he had less decided to pull away and more ripped his hands back as if they had been burned. Considering who it was, he checked if they had.

With no pains in his fingers, he shook out a few small cramps in his palms, turning back to see Yang start to shake herself back into coherency, her hair swinging back and forth, what appeared to be sparks snapping through the strands at first glance, revealed in another to be just a trick of the light as she stretched with a loud, hearty groan of satisfaction.

"S-so," he began, only to stop as she turned suddenly, hair whipping around as he reflexively flinched away, only to stop as she beamed at him.

"That was amazing!" She gushed, lifting her arms above her head in a stretch, moaning audibly as she said, "I haven't felt this refreshed in weeks!"

That was relieving, Jaune supposed. He smiled at her, hesitantly saying, "t-that's good! I'm, uh, I'm glad I could help out!"

The following silence was almost awkward, as Jaune fidgeted, trying to work out what exactly to say next, before a gleam found its way into Yangs eye, as she grinned at him. "Next time," she began in a sultry, teasing voice, "I'll let you massage my ass, if you like," she sang.

Blood rushed to Jaune's head as a number of...interesting images flashed across his mind's eye-

 _His hands, sinking into the plump, firm globes of her-_

Jaune firmly suplexed that thought into oblivion, only to be caught off guard as-

 _Her unclothed back back arching, tan skin slick with sweat as he straddled her legs, no bra strap in sight as-_

Jaune dived for cover under the assault, banishing one image only for a far more attractive one to slam into its place-

 _She turned underneath him, eyes shining and needy as his hands, not lifting up, suddenly found themselves trapped between her thighs-_

Jaune scrambled to his feet as Yang fell out of her chair in hysterics, blurting out an unintelligible goodbye as he practically flew out of the room, face burning crimson, the door slamming shut behind him as he nearly collided face first with a silent Blake.

He gaped wordlessly at her, and she stared blankly at him for a moment before smirking and saying, "same room, tomorrow night. Don't be late," and swept past him into the dorm room, leaving him in shocked silence, alone in the hall.

* * *

Yang stifled her giggles as her partner entered the room, seated on the chair once more, before Blake fixed her with a firm look.

"You're loud." She said sternly, silencing anything Yang had to say, the blonde's cheeks dusting scarlet as she coughed, preparing to explain what was happening before Blake continued to speak.

"Thank dust I heard enough to know you two weren't actually going at it, but I don't think prissy did."

Yang's expression changed from embarrassed to mortified.

Blake snickered at her face, "you get to explain that to her tomorrow," she said, leaving no room for arguments, "and go train tomorrow night, or study in the library, or something, you have plenty of work to catch up on."

Yang pouted as her partner climbed into bed, before her face lit up as she scrambled to her top bunk, singing out, "try teasing him, it's super funny!"

Blake responded by slamming a pillow into her partners face, her very slight embarrassment audible in her silence as Yang gave a muffled laugh, pulling her covers up and relaxing.

She hadn't been kidding, when she said she felt better than she had in weeks. Jaune had some serious talent, evident in how she was drifting off already. It was odd, how someone so clumsy with his hands in a fight could suddenly be so nimble when giving a massage, although she had to suppose that he perhaps was not stressing near as much.

Whether she was kidding about everything she said, well, he'd just have to massage her again and find out.

* * *

 **Well, here we are at last. Bois and grills, strap in...**

 **For another six month wait between updates :'D**

 **Jokes aside, it's been...an interesting journey, to get here. I honestly never thought I'd publish this, and more than once I contemplated moving on entirely from rwby and writing something else, but there's a pull in this fandom that I can't escape. I don't plan on jumping the shark this time, so hopefully it won't end in cancellation and lots of problems on my end lmao.**


	2. Descendant of Shadows

**that was supposed to be a joke but if im anything it's inconsistent**

* * *

Truth be told - Jaune didn't sleep well that night. While in the heat of the moment, and thinking quite a bit about his sisters (at first, that is), Jaune hadn't focused much on the actual feeling of what he had been doing. But now, alone in his bed, with no distractions?

It was all he could think about.

The feeling of her smooth back, gradually growing slick with sweat under his palms, unblemished and gorgeous skin kneaded beneath his deft fingers-

Each knead of his fingers, at least later in the massage, resulting in a throaty groan that reverberated through every inch of her gorgeous form, sounding all too pleasured for what he was doing because _she was practically moaning_ -

The sight of her back, cascading locks of gold shimmering in the light, occasionally framing his fingers in a sight that he wished he could have a picture of if only for the sheer beauty of her hair and tanned skin-

Not to mention what she had said to him, in that sultry voice at the end, resulting in way _too many images-_

Jaune shifted in his bed again, the number of which he had lost track of. Try as he might, and he did try, the images _would not go away._ Every time he closed his eyes he could see it, replaying itself over and over again, interspersed with images of his fingers sinking into the supple, firm cheeks of her-

He bit back a cry of frustration, finally pulling himself out of bed and into the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face. Why did she have to say that? Why did she say it at all?

He knew. She had been joking, which was obvious. A little light hearted throwaway comment to segue from an awkward silence. She probably just wanted to get him out of the room.

He sighed, the images losing some of their luster. He should have been grateful that he could focus again, but that niggling little part in the back of his mind yearned to see them again, to keep imagining. He sighed again, feeling his way back to his bed, smiling gently at Nora's obnoxious snoring.

Of course, he was not done worrying over things, and now that space had been made in his mind it was what Blake had said that began to replay itself.

" _Same room, tomorrow night. Don't be late."_

She must have been joking, right? Of course she wasn't, Blake didn't joke with him. He wasn't an idiot, he imagined she must have heard her partner with how loud Yang was being. He hadn't pegged her as the type that would be interested in something simply because of how her partner reacted, but he could also imagine that Yang reacting in such a way was out of the ordinary. Still, asking _him_? He wasn't interesting.

Oh sure, he'd followed his mom's advice of "Be confident!" but it didn't take long for the truth to set in. Confidence wasn't a replacement for a sheer lack of substance. He might be funny (quirky, more likely), but it was pointless unless he had something beneath that.

' _Yang seemed to think your massaging skills had substance,'_ whispered an oft silent corner of his brain, which the remaining 96% scoffed off the stage. As if.

He groaned, digging himself deeper into his pillow. The only thing this was doing was ensuring that he got even less sleep.

Pointed reminders from himself tended not to work, but it's the effort that counts, right?

* * *

Across the hall, Yang was growing more and more concerned by the minute. Now, Yang liked to consider herself a very confident, headstrong person, who was rarely thrown off balance. And to be honest, she really was. Ever since she'd been faced with a pack of beowolves and cowered, only to be saved by her uncle, she had resolved to never be shaken like that again. But if there was one thing worrying enough to make her toss and turn restlessly in bed, it was the fact that Weiss had not returned yet.

She wasn't worried for her teammate, no no. It didn't happen frequently but Weiss had been out late before, usually because she lost track of time in a training module. Either that or she got buried in a book in the library, or fell asleep in the shower (Yang's mind helpfully supplied the affronted, stuffy 'hey!' to complete that funny image.) But Weiss had overheard her Massage and she knew _well_ what she had sounded like. She certainly wouldn't admit it to Blake but what started as a joke had gotten a bit out of hand near the end as she realized she wasn't pretending anymore. When the jokes and conversation had died down and Jaune had really started to get into it, his touch alone had seemed to soothe her aching back, not even counting the pleasant feeling of the actual massage-

Yang blinked, shaking her head slightly as she shooed the commentary out of the spotlight, briefly perturbed at how quickly that train of thought had gotten away from her.

"Go toss and turn outside, Yang," Blake grumbled from below her, and Yang giggled despite her still-growing trepidation. Still, that did raise a point, and Yang was never very comfortable waiting around. Might as well go find Weiss herself. Her bent knees softened the impact as she dropped from the bed, shooting an easy smile to her partner who had suddenly sat up, worried that the blonde had actually been upset. Concerns alleviated, Blake slipped back down under her covers as Yang strode to the door, marvelling once more at the lack of stiffness in her back, still tingling from feeling Jaune's-

Yang froze, clamping down on the thought as she closed the door behind her. Twice now specifically about him, and she certainly wasn't infatuated. She would have acted far differently were that the case, teasing him in less subtle ways ('But is moaning really very subtle?' something whispered in her head.) Like slipping down the fabric of her-

Yang lightly slapped herself across the face, not even letting that thought get started. This was ridiculous, she _knew_ what infatuation felt like, she _knew_ what crushes felt like, this was most _certainly_ not one of those cases. She was probably still riding the sense of relaxation from the massage, nothing more-

"Yang?"

Yang focused, taking a full second and a half to register the shower of pale hair before her, and the somewhat guarded, wary expression.

"Weiss, I would _never,_ " she began without preamble, refusing to give this situation any opportunity for misunderstanding, feeling a sense of relief, undercut by a twinge of pain, as she realized that Weiss hadn't fully believed that beforehand, watching the pale girl's expression soften.

"Right, yeah, I believe you," Weiss murmured, tension visibly fading from her body as she powered down the scroll Yang hadn't noticed until the light was gone.

"You better," Yang grunted in response, opening the door for the both of them, "That's _disgusting_."

"Doing it in the room or with him?" Came the light, teasing voice from Blake, to which Yang responded by impulsively grabbing Ruby's pillow and nailing her in the face with it, refusing to give an answer, before shrinking and whispering a hushed apology as Ruby woke confused and bleary-eyed.

Having alleviated _that_ concern, she expected sleep to come a bit easier.

It didn't.

* * *

In hindsight, he really shouldn't have expected sleep to resolve the maelstrom in his head. Some vain hope had sparked to life in his head as he finally found opening his eyes harder than keeping them closed, but that had been dashed as he had finished the shower. Thankfully, and unexpectedly, his dreams had remained untouched by his prior...mood? Mindset? State-of-being-trapped-in-memories-of-Yang's-soft-

Jaune repressed a loud groan, screwing his eyes shut as he rubbed his forehead and distractedly doodled something on his notebook before sitting up a bit straighter as he felt an elbow brush against his arm. He waved off Pyrrha's concerned glance with a smile that he didn't entirely feel, tuning his ears back to the instructor as Weiss finished rattling an answer off - something about the differences of tactics employed by Humans and Faunus. It did bug him how distracted he was in arguably his favorite class, but he also imagined that focusing on being distracted likely wasn't helping at all.

"Ah, Jaune! You next - question three of the reading?"

He paused for a moment, blinking the distraction out of his eyes and flicked through his notes, pleased that he had something functional as an answer.

"Yeah, uh, the Strømæl project?" He asked for clarification, absentmindedly registering Port's enthusiastic nod, clearly pleased he had pronounced the name correctly. Seeing his affirmative, Jaune glanced back down at the notes he and Pyrrha had gone over last night, before he had heard Yang while stepping out to get a snack, and then got sidetracked-

He sighed, squeezing a fist as he absentmindedly rattled of the answer, barely paying attention to what it was as he'd checked the textbook quite thoroughly at Pyrrha's behest. Port enthusiastically took over once he'd cleared through the material required for the question, allowing Jaune to return to his previous state of, well, focus would be a strong word considering the numerous distractions throughout the day, but whatever.

Much as he'd like to claim he didn't know why he was so affected, it was pretty obvious when he actually took a few seconds to think through it. Still, he liked to imagine it was unusual to be so strongly affected by the events that had occurred last night, but he didn't exactly have an established metric to base such a claim off of. All he had were his own experiences, and apparently even venturing in that direction caused every thought train of his to catastrophically derail.

He repressed a sigh, realizing he was rapidly approaching a sigh every minute and that would just be a disaster. Still, at the end of the day, there was no value in dwelling on what had happened, especially because it surely wouldn't happen- oh right, Blake. While the temptation to break his newly established edict of no sighs was tempting, it wouldn't actually do much except to make Pyrrha even more concerned for him. So, he soldiered on, doing his best to realign his focus towards the portly- _ugh_ \- professor talking about faunus training programs.

This, of course, was the perfect time for him to accidentally lock eyes with Yang. Flushing slightly at the memories such a sight brought back, he made to give a half smile and look away before she winked, turning back with a faint smile of her own, and consequently destroyed all the progress he'd made since the previous night to focus and not think about his eventful yesterday evening.

Yes. Now he was certain. Today's class was going to be _long_.

* * *

Yang supposed that she should have felt troubled by the fact that the wink and half smile and (apparently unnoticed) wiggle of her hips came so easily, but more and more she was beginning to write it off as a little joke and nothing more. The fact that she acknowledged who exactly she was trying to convince with those thoughts wasn't very helpful, and her mind kept hearkening back to her little comment, made in the heat of the moment and one she was beginning to question just _how much_ of was actually a joke.

However, as Port called on her to answer question six and she fumbled for her hastily scrawled notes, such thoughts did not take their leave like they should have and instead parked themselves spitefully in place, making focusing on her response extra difficult. Still, she managed, somehow, and the day carried on.

* * *

Jaune had noticed, once he paused to think of exactly what that little shake had been, and had nearly choked on his drink when he realized the subtext it gave her wink, and it was back to square one _again._

* * *

"So, Jaune?" Pyrrha asked, watching his shoulders slump, the meaning of which was surprisingly difficult to decipher, despite how long they had worked together. However, his still shoddy control of his aura radiating the near despair he felt at her question was a far easier response to unpack.

"U-uh, yeah, Pyrrha?" He asked, not quite looking her in the eyes as he usually did when he was embarrassed or ashamed or worried or- well, there were a lot of potential reasons, really.

She smiled pleasantly, trying to seem welcoming and open which apparently seemed to work as his shoulders came back up a hair, before asking, "What was going on in class today?"

His shoulders fell down again, but that was a sacrifice she was willing to make.

"I, uh, I don't suppose you'll accept 'nothing' as an answer here, huh?"

Her smile thinned a bit and he nodded with a sigh, seeming to glower for a moment before the expression faded.

"I, uh, it's nothing _bad_ ," he stressed, immediately sparking a tiny flame of wariness in her body, "I, um," he paused again, groaning in frustration and scratching his head, "IgaveYangamssageyesteray."

She blinked a few times, tilting her head with a quizzical expression, one he apparently liked as his expression lightened and he seemed to exhale slightly sharper out his nose.

"S-sorry, I, uh, I gave Yang a m-massage yesterday and, well, she really seemed to like it and she was making some loud noises and it was a bit weird and then Blake was there and I," he paused, ceasing in his frantic rambling as he rubbed his forehead, "I just- I just can't pull my mind away from that and it's, well, it's really distracting, obviously."

She stared at him, getting a small amount of amusement at the way his expression changed as the silence dragged on. Still, there would be no point in letting him get even more off-balance, and it wasn't like she was _mad_ at him.

"I see," she began, shifting her weight and setting her fork down, chicken forgotten, "I imagined it was something to do with Yang, given the way you were avoiding looking at her, but you… massaged her? Is that why you took so long to get a snack?" she asked.

He flushed, to which she smiled gently to convey she wasn't upset. "Um, yeah, I heard her cry out, she was in a lot of pain, something about Peach's rules about posture?" he ventured, to which she nodded, familiar with those particular class rules.

"Yeah, and, well, she definitely had some knots in her back, though I've taken a Peach class and never felt that bad…"

Pyrrha decided not to mention the fact that he wasn't quite as topheavy, figuring that wouldn't do anything but derail the conversation even more.

"So, um, yeah, I gave her a back massage and I guess it wasn't terrible and it's really hard to focus and Pyrrha gimme something here please," he pleaded, to which she smiled apologetically and turned all her attention back to the present discussion.

"Well, your struggle to focus is completely understandable," she began, watching his expression intently enough to see the minute changes, to better appease his worries and frustrations. Seeing that it was lightening, she continued that angle of attack. "I assume, considering it was a back massage, that she removed her shirt?" At his nod (and blush) she nodded in return. "Well, that must have felt rather intimate, I imagine, and especially considering she is both a friend and sometimes teammate it certainly would cause one to have, mmm, let's say 'discomforting' feelings."

He nodded again, slightly more subdued as he likely explored his own thought processes.

"So, yes, it's entirely reasonable to feel what you're feeling, expected, even. Unfortunately there isn't exactly an easy way to calm down after an event like this, I expect at least, but no, this isn't unusual, and yes, it's entirely understandable. As for what happens next, that, unfortunately, is entirely on you to determine," she said, giggling slightly as his expression fell once more, but nowhere near as far as it had been previously. With that, she considered her job done, and added as a passing thought, "Although, I must say I am quite interested in your skills as a Masseur. Perhaps you could also give me a massage, at some point?"

She tried to ignore how much work in calming him down she had just undone, judging by his baffled and flushing expression.

* * *

Why Pyrrha just _had_ to go and say that was fundamentally beyond him. She had _just_ gone through the process of calming him down and assuring him that what he was feeling was normal, and then she went and sparked the dust _again_.

He sighed, ruffling his hair with a frustrated sigh, having read the same sentence of his textbook over and over for the past two minutes. He knew she couldn't have meant to call images like these to his mind, and probably just meant it in passing, but it was certainly getting to him, imagining her back laid bare to him, olive skin soft under his touch, her voice-

He growled, soft to the point of being nearly inaudible, his forehead thumping against the textbook angrily. She was his friggin teammate! He didn't want to think about her like that, even though some mutinous part of his brain whispered how frequently hunting teammates ended up in relationships with each other.

Much as he wished for it to cease, images of his massage for Yang began to play again, this time with Pyrrha pasted over Yang's figure, scarlet instead of gold blinding him. His fingers trailing down her back, towards her waist _next time I'll let you massage my-_

He physically pushed himself backwards, roughly slapping himself across the face with a hiss, thankful he had chosen to study in the back of the library. He was _not_ going to think of her like that! Not going to think about the few times she had worn pajamas pulled just a hair tighter, or when her legs moved and pulled her sash _just so-_

He screamed internally.

* * *

The clock struck eight. His screaming got louder.

* * *

It was time. Much as he didn't want it to be so, much as he wished he could put this off, he knew he best not. With someone else that might have worked, but if there was one thing his sparse missions with Blake had told him about the girl was that she was stubborn, and it was best if he just got this over with. So, with a stomach filled to bursting with butterflies, and a brain so exhausted from lack of sleep and a day filled with trying not to think about his various female peers that it couldn't even supply a joke about said stomach to alleviate his nerves, he knocked against the room to RWBY's dorm room-

-and realized immediately that he had no idea what to say if someone other than Blake opened the door.

Before his heart could actually stop beating, the door opened promptly and Blake gestured for him to step inside. He did, after a beat or two or seven of hesitation, shutting the door behind him with a single, shaky hand.

For a moment they both stood in an increasingly awkward silence, Jaune fidgeting quietly before the dam inside him burst, asking the question he'd been sitting on since last night.

"Why do you want a massage?"

"Because I've never heard Yang so… vocal about something like that," Blake responded immediately, clearly having expected the question from him.

"I'm pretty sure she was just trying to tease me." He responded after a brief pause, having considered that as a response he could get.

She only stared back, not responding to the vague note of self-contempt in his voice, before shrugging and saying in turn, "I'll be the judge of that."

He nodded without a word, seeming...not more comfortable, but less tense, perhaps. Not near at ease yet, but more resigned. In silence, she turned away from him, slipping her undershirt off to reveal bandages snugly wrapped around her torso, spanning from the crooks of her arms to just beneath the swell of her breasts.

Shamefully, despite having figured this would happen, it still took him a good several seconds to remind himself what he was doing in the room and tear his eyes off the sight of her toned back and shoulders. Whereas Yang, while she didn't have _broad_ shoulders, certainly had more muscle, Blake was absolutely on the lithe side, not as if he could or _would_ draw a comparison between the two, but-

He shook his head slightly, knowing this was neither the place nor time for these thoughts.

Then, he frowned slightly. He figured she probably wouldn't want him messing with the fabric and didn't have near a large enough death wish to try and remove them. However, they limited the range at which he could actually massage her, especially where she might have the tightest knots judging by her throwing-intensive style of combat. However, he wasn't here to sit and stare at her back, despite how _pleasant_ a sight-

He barely restrained himself from growling audibly, knowing she would probably be getting impatient at this rate. Finally, knowing there'd be no going back now, he raised his hands.

* * *

His fingers brushed across her back and shoulders, barely grazing her skin at first, then pressing deeper around her shoulder blades and upper arms, a scant few centimeters above her bindings. After a few moments of this fluttering contact his thumbs started to dig into her shoulders, sending jolts of pain from her aching muscles through her body.

It didn't feel moan worthy, though, but before she could point this out Jaune spoke.

"Huh, I thought you were ambidextrous?"

She blinked, surprised at the sudden comment, before sighing and rolling her eyes. "Just because I dual wield-"

"Nonononono," he interrupted, "you favor your right arm for throwing."

"...We haven't gone on near enough missions for you to figure _that_ out," she said, almost in disbelief, turning to look at him over her shoulder, hissing as his palm dug into a particularly sore knot.

"Yeah, but your right shoulder and, uh," he waved a hand in the general direction of her arm, "that bit have tighter knots than your left, even though the sheath of gambol shroud doesn't weigh any more than the, uh, the other bit."

"The katana?"

"Is it a katana? Never seemed long enough to me…"

She hummed. Jaune was more observant than she'd expected - not that she'd expected anything at all, but hindsight and all that. "How did you figure out the identical weight?" she asked, "you've never held them, as far as I know."

"Well, uhh…" he trailed off, sounding embarrassed.

She turned, quirking an eyebrow. "Been watching me?" she asked with a slight curl in her lips.

He coughed, not looking at her, "Not, um, staring or anything weird, I watch people fight a lot…"

She hummed again, wondering if it was a good time to comment on the lackluster nature of his massage yet.

His hands slowed even more, "I loved reading soldiers journals, especially my ancestors'," he said wistfully, hands moving in simple, circular motions, "they described over and over how much you could tell about someone by watching them move and fight, so I, well, I tried it? Started watching a lot of historical documentaries for that same sorts thing - never publically funded stuff, y'know?"

She nodded, well familiar with the bias in such media forms.

"Ah, s-sorry, I didn't mean to uh, ramble."

"It's alright," she commented, before asking, "So it was your lack of experience, not knowledge, that resulted in your performance in the arena?"

She could imagine Jaune's slightly defeated expression as he chuckled, "Uh, yeah, I guess?"

The two lapsed into an uncomfortable silence, Jaune's hands still moving slow.

"You know, Yang seemed to be enjoying herself a great deal," Blake began, not caring too much for the fact that she was repeating obvious knowledge, feeling Jaune's hands pause. "Now, this isn't terrible and all, but…"

"Ah, well, that's probably because she had more sk-uhhh, n-nevermind…" Jaune trailed off, hands freezing in place on her shoulders.

"More what?" She asked, curiosity coloring her tone.

"More uh, more skin showing since, um, you're wearing wraps?" Jaune said, voice trembling ever so faintly.

Oh.

"That makes sense," she muttered, even though it kinda didn't, but the first step of troubleshooting was trying things even if they didn't seem like they'd work, so she tossed a "Right, gimme a sec." over her shoulder. Call her impulsive, but she _knew_ her partner, and while she was prone to teasing at the drop of a hat the noises from yesterday did _not_ fit the bill at all. There was a stark difference between deliberately over-exaggerated sex noises and actual groans of appreciation.

Jaune barely had time to process her swiftly undoing the bandages, yelping as he turned away, trying and utterly failing not to imagine what she'd look like if she turned around.

"Continue," she said, voice still as mild and steady as before. Tentatively, he rested his palms on her shoulders, then trailed his fingers down between her shoulder blades, to the places he hadn't been able to reach with her wraps in the way, once more grazing his fingertips across her back to feel for the knots he guessed would be there, and felt a small flicker of satisfaction when his estimate was dead-on.

Overcome with a sudden sense of twinged pride, ignited by that flicker, Jaune spoke up as he pressed his palms firmly into her lower muscle groups, digging his thumbs into the two most prominent knots he was able to find. "I was also, um, focused on talking to-"

He paused, blinking rapidly. Had she just - had she just _moaned_?

Experimentally, he dug his thumb into the same spot, twisting upwards as he kneaded his palm into-

She gasped this time, head rocking backwards an inch or two, leaning heavily into his hands. "Wh-what are you d-doin _ah_!" She gasped again, unable to finish her question as spike of pain shot through her back, undercut, however, by the overwhelming feeling of _relief_ as tense muscles were coaxed into relaxing.

"Uh," Jaune began, worry setting into his mind, "Should I stop-"

"No!" She gasped again, voice hitting pitches Jaune didn't think she was capable of as she leaned back into his hands, shoulders trembling ever so faintly as he began to venture further out, experimentally pressuring the tighter tendons in her neck as he simultaneously attacked the most prominent knots in her back.

The response was almost humorous, if only because of how stoic Blake typically seemed in their interactions. In respect to that this was almost ridiculous, although, the armchair psychologist in him piped up, she likely just repressed her reactions in ordinary circumstances to maintain the image she upheld. After all, it wasn't as if she actually didn't _feel_ these things, she just chose not to show them. But, if built up enough…

Her breath caught again, her body seemingly unable to decide whether to squirm or press against his fingers. She shuddered, gently biting her lower lip as tension she hadn't even realized she was feeling was coaxed away by his deft hands - his massage from minutes earlier had _nothing_ on this, and she dazedly realized that Yang's moans from the previous night, which certainly might have been over-exaggerated at first, were definitely grounded in a legitimate response.

She'd never been to a massage parlor before, so she didn't exactly have experience to compare to, but this was _incredible._

Accordingly, the sounds escaping her lips began to take on a tone reflective of such... _appreciation_.

* * *

Outside, Weiss' hand stilled at the door. She listened, repressed the initial reaction of rage, pondered, and then sighed angrily, letting go of the doorknob and turning back to face Yang, who had just caught up. She said nothing, silently walking away as Yang released the breath she had been holding, having lost sight of her when Weiss wised up to the fact that she was being steered away from the dorm room.

* * *

Ignorant of the going-ons outside of the dorm room, and likely uncaring in that moment even if he did know, Jaune's mind continued to spiral down into the gutter despite how shameful it made him feel. In all fairness, of course, there was a very pretty girl who was sitting in front of him, topless, leaning into his hands and _moaning_ at his touch as he worked stress and tightness out of her back. A vaguely dirty thought here and there was surely par the course.

That didn't mean he didn't feel a little bad about it, naturally. She was his sometimes-teammate, as Pyrrha had put it, and while he wasn't sure he could reasonably call them _friends_ they'd studied together and fought together. Not directly, and not by active choice, but so remained the fact that they _had_.

At the same time, of course, Jaune was also still technically a teenager. He had long since passed the height of puberty, but his body was still a hormonal mess wracked with urges that he kept under firm lock and key.

He blinked, realizing that Blake's throaty groans had decreased slightly in intensity, absentmindedly seeking out tightness in her back to push against and feeling a minor twinge of satisfaction and, well, something he didn't want to think about when she gasped again. However, once that minor distraction had faded, he went back to most certainly _not_ thinking shameful things about the raven-haired beauty before him.

Sadly, however, all good things had to come to end. It was strange, because even though cramps had long since begun to develop in his hands, that didn't bother him very much. Maybe it was the hormonal teenager, delighted that he'd gotten to touch a girl like he had, or maybe it was the Jaune that wanted to be friends with Blake, seeing the notable lack of tension in her relaxed frame as she leaned back into his hands. He couldn't tell, but either way this evening felt like a good thing of _some_ kind.

His hands gently trailed off her slick back, his expression pensive as he watched her. Funny, he considered it a success. He had not been anticipating this, but could not look back and say it had been an entirely unenjoyable way to spend his time. Slowly her breathing began to calm, her shoulders still beset by a most gentle quiver (but not one of stress and tense muscles, he noted with a surprising amount of pride), and as she turned

Wait.

What?

Jaune's brain did its best impression of a train catastrophically derailing as Blake turned for a moment, granting the briefest glimpse of her chest, the opposite of what he had been staring at for the past half hour and what he had _most certainly not_ been imagining displayed for him to see. Past the shoulders, down under her prominent collarbone, sloping into rounded, shapely, cream colored breasts, rising and falling with her weighted, husky breathing, each capped with a perked and cherry red-

Jaune's chivalrous side won out, his eyes snapping shut even as the remaining 48% of his being screamed and raged at the _gorgeous_ sight (which he could have contentedly stared at for one or six hours) having been taken away. His mouth opened before he'd even decided what he was going to say, but the only sound he could make was a strangled groan, hands pulled back as if she had burned him.

It took her a moment to remember where she was and, far more importantly, what she was not wearing. She didn't cry out, or accuse him, which he was nearly unreasonably happy about. There was merely the sound of someone whipping around and the rustling of fabric as she presumably reapplied her bindings.

"...You can look now," she said, the first time she'd spoken coherently since he'd really gotten into it. His eyes cracked open warily to find that she'd thrown an undershirt on (one that he most definitely did not glance at and did _not_ notice the tautness of white fabric against barely visible peaks, or the faint pink crowning either one). Her expression was an odd mixture of her usual stoicness and that sort of content relaxation that sparked an entirely different warm feeling in him.

Not the enjoyment of being able to touch a pretty girl without reproach, not the pride of giving a good massage, he was...happy, because her relaxation was _visible_. Even if she hadn't had back pains like Yang, which he still didn't quite understand, she had obviously held some tension in her shoulders that sleep could not work out. Now, she looked far more at ease than he'd ever seen her, and while he was proud of that, he felt an even stronger brimming warmth in his stomach, happy that she was feeling better.

The silence was a bit awkward, but not in the kind that made him want to flee. Neither of them knew what to say to the other, so they didn't try and fill it with anything.

Eventually, though, he knew he had to return to his room. Homework demanded his presence, and he realized with a barely restrained sigh that he had been so absorbed in his trepidation earlier that he forgot to tell Pyrrha he was doing this. So, despite his desire to sit here in this awkward-but-not-uncomfortable silence for some time, he began to rise to his feet.

"Jaune?" Blake interrupted, freezing him in place immediately.

"I, uhh, y-yeah?" he asked, firmly putting the image of her shirtless out of his mind and _definitely_ not thinking about it at all.

She smiled. It wasn't a big wide grin like Yang or Ruby, it wasn't a confident smirk like Weiss, it wasn't even Blake's usually reserved smile when she watched her team do something stupid and hilarious. There was nothing incredibly special about it, it didn't make her look any different, but he couldn't help but feel like the room had gotten a bit brighter.

"Thank you," she murmured.

He smiled back, a little shaky and lopsided, rubbing the back of his head with an aching, shaking hand that he'd forgotten to steady. "A-anytime, Blake. I'm, um, h-happy I could help you feel better."

When it became clear that there was nothing else to be said, he finished rising to his feet, stretching with a tight groan as blood finally was able to properly rush into his legs, half-walking half-stumbling over to the door as the numbness he hadn't realized was present began to fade. Grasping the doorknob with one hand as his legs stabilized, he shot one last glance back at Blake, who had stood up herself, and opened it, turning back to head to his room and books-

And just about walked directly into Weiss Schnee.

A Weiss Schnee whose eyes were very narrow.

A Weiss Schnee whose very narrow eyes were staring _directly at him_.

He froze, as he always did, despite his fierce attempts on several occasions to not be simultaneously terrified and extremely attracted to said heiress.

She stared resolutely at him, turning after a moment to turn that same pointed gaze on Blake who, not that Jaune could see, merely raised an eyebrow.

"...A massage, huh?" Weiss asked, turning back to look at Jaune, who stared resolutely not at her eyes.

"Yep. And _just_ a Massage," Blake spoke up, suddenly directly to his left.

Weiss' gaze drifted back to Blake, then to her wearing an undershirt as opposed to her uniform or pajama shirt, a single eyebrow lifting.

The silence stretched on, Jaune growing steadily more and more uncomfortable caught between the two. Weiss' expression didn't even twitch, face as if carved from marble, his own gaze fixed somewhere around her left ear.

Finally, after Jaune was tempted three times to check to see if he could still move, if he was dreaming, or if perhaps they'd all been put under a spell, Weiss let out a long-suffering sigh, having come to a decision of some sort, and spoke.

"Prove it."

Then, she glanced down, seeing his trembling hands, despite how still he was holding the rest of his body.

"...Tomorrow."

She stepped past him as Jaune's mind finally caught up to present events, mouth dropping open as he whirled around to, well, he wasn't even sure what he would do. Cry out, asking what the _hell_ she was thinking? Beg her not to, because this was getting ridiculous? Let out a whoop of anticipation? He flushed on that last thought, before the door slammed as he turned, ending the conversation.

He stood in the hall, floundering for a response that some part of him knew would never come.

* * *

Weiss held up a hand before Blake could speak, pinching the bridge of her nose. After a moment, she sighed, dropping the hand with another sigh.

"I don't, I don't think you two actually, well," she grimaced, sighing again, far more aggressively this time, and turning to her bed, missing Blake's faint smirk at her teammates obvious embarrassment with the subject.

"Good, because we certainly didn't."

"And yet you are wearing a random tshirt…" Weiss muttered under her breath, a habit she'd yet to break as Blake's far superior hearing meant it was never missed.

"Took it off so he could give a better massage," Blake said in that same, factual tone, her shrug almost audible, surreptitiously kicking her still discarded wraps under the bed and thankful that Weiss hadn't looked too hard at her chest.

Weiss acquiesced to that with a tired nod before turning, sitting down on the bed, staring at her hands. This time, she remembered to keep her mouth shut.

' _Why did I say that to him?'_

* * *

While it had taken some time, Jaune eventually figured it was best not to ponder what the hell had gotten into Weiss to make her say something like that. Finally, he turned back to his dorm room, ready to face his homework.

"Oh, hey Jaune!"

He froze, turning, seeing Yang approach.

Watched her walk up.

Imagined her in Blake's position.

"Oh, h-hi Yang! Sorry, homework, gotta go, bye bye!"

She giggled, watching his scarlet face vanish behind the door.

* * *

... **I.e I'm not actually dead the story isn't canceled (if it is I** _ **will**_ **change the title to reflect that status) it's just been in development hell for the better part of a bajillion years because finding the strength to write is...difficult, sometimes.**

 **So yeah. I never meant to wait a year. Six months was a joke. I meant to have this out by january because i felt like a shithead for actually delaying that long but it never happened so, uh, yeah.**

 **Sorry.**

 **Not gonna make any promises about next chapter, other than what i said already - if I do cancel this,** _ **IF,**_ **I** _ **will**_ **add a (canceled) to the title, like I did on the last Massages.**

 **Anyways yeah, my planning document for this story has reached 20 chapters, although that was months ago and I'm making a few changes, and I haven't even hit the peak of my overarching plans. I have a lot in mind for this travesty of a storyline. Until next time, and man it's been years since i've been able to type this-**

 **Cheers,**

 **Rarpee.**


	3. Royal, Yearning White

**welp**

* * *

Yang cracked the door open, peeking inside as, somewhere behind her, Jaune slammed the door to JNPR's dorm room. To her mild relief it seemed that Ruby was still in the library. Considering the blinding red color of Jaune's face as he had rather obviously bolted to his room after being caught staring at her own door, she could gather that _something_ had gone on in her absence. Both Blake and Weiss had turned to look at the door the instant it had moved, so Yang shrugged and stepped inside.

For a moment, the non red members of RWBY looked at each other in silence. Then, after said moment passed, Yang quirked an eyebrow.

"So, which one of you was it?"

Weiss scowled and loosely gestured to Blake, who merely cocked an eyebrow of her own.

Yang snickered at Weiss' expression, shut the door behind her, and tugged off her top as she reached for her night shirt. Muffled by the fabric on her face, but knowing her partner would hear her just fine, she asked with as innocent a tone as she could muster, "So, how was he?"

Weiss almost seemed to gag at what she knew was Yang's extremely intentional phrasing, but also knew that if she tried to say anything about said phrasing Yang would merely respond with an innocent comment questioning why Weiss had _assumed_ anything sexual of the sort and then use it to lead into a jab and a comment about being a prude and dealing with such things was _far_ more aggravating after a long day so it was _honestly_ better to ignore the entire thing.

"He was fine."

Weiss was infinitely grateful that at least _one_ of her teammates was sane and mature enough to deal with such a...creature, as Yang. God knew her own teammate only seemed to egg on her fiery sister, even if she had no idea what the subtext was. Or, at least, pretended to.

...Huh.

There was a scary thought-

"So 'fine' was good enough to make you take off your wraps?"

Weiss blinked.

What _._

Blake scowled.

"They were in the way."

 _What._

"Suuuuuure" Yang drawled, leaning against the wall, "And how was it _after_ blondie was able to get his hands all over you?" She leered.

Blake's scowl didn't move, but nor did she immediately fire off the retort Weiss was hoping she would. Instead, she looked back down at her book, pretended to read a few lines, and murmured "Surprising."

Yang snickered, stepping on Blakes bed and hopping up to her own. However, she didn't fire off another teasing remark like Weiss expected. "He is, isn't he?" She responded with a shocking amount of apparent interest.

Weiss managed to contain her gag this time. She made no secret that she didn't like Jaune - she didn't hate him, of course. But he didn't seem to really _do_ anything, except have Pyrrha save his butt and sometimes have some generally decent ideas, and while she wouldn't actually trade Ruby for Pyrrha (Not that she'd say it so bluntly, and the dunce wouldn't pick up on her subtlety anyways) She would, occasionally, in the middle of a sleepless night, scowl at the reminder that Pyrrha had actively sought out Jaune instead of partnering with her.

Oh well, as a fellow celebrity of sorts she was well aware of the toll it could take on one's psyche. If it made Pyrrha snap at a young age then there really was nothing she could do. How dreadful.

Unaware of the sarcastic musings of a spiteful heiress, Blake spoke up.

"His hands didn't wander. Not once - he never even veered to my sides until I told him too."

Blake sounded...pensive. In Blakes mind, it was due to not being entirely sure why she felt the sudden need to clarify this. Or why even continue the discussion at all, when she could be reading. But she was already a sentence in, so it was too late to back out now.

For Weiss, it was an understandable curiosity - her teammate had no reason to lie, unless the entire story was a fabrication and she did in fact-

No, she rathered not think like that. Besides, Blake wasn't the lying type, at least concerning something like this.

Yang spoke up, and Weiss found herself even more curious.

"Same here. Heck, I teased him when he was done and he _bolted_. Granted, I don't think that's super unusual, but-"

"No, I mean, it kinda is," Blake cut off, and Yang looked only slightly affronted at being interrupted. Blake paused, seeming to realize that she should clarify, and to the mild astonishment of Weiss, her face actually reddened slightly. "I mean, well, when he was done I...well, I turned around."

Weiss blinked, confused as to why this was relevant, before remembering Yang's little comment from earlier. Yang, too, seemed to realize the significance of this, and she nearly rolled off her bed to gape at her partner.

"Wait - you _flashed_ him?" She guffawed, the bed shaking with her laughter.

Blake's scowl deepend alongside the redness on her cheeks as she buried her face in her book.

"That isn't the important part-" she tried to say, before Yang cut her off.

"Nonono, I think it's very important - you showed Jaune your boobs!" she crowed, and Blake threw her book at her partner.

"I didn't _mean_ too!" She snapped, not with genuine anger but merely the flush of embarrassment. "I just...spaced, for a bit."

"You _spaced_?" Weiss asked, incredulous.

Blake nearly growled, snatching her book back before Yang could hold it above her, or hide it.

"I _said_. That's not the _important part_." She ground out, trying to regain her cool, and Yang finally seemed to calm down and no longer rock the bed and _wow_ that was phrasing Weiss never wanted to think or imagine again.

"Well, what is, then?" Weiss said hurriedly, banishing the thoughts as Blake turned the scowl on her, grumbling about idiots not letting her finish her sentences, before finally speaking up.

"He flinched like he'd been slapped."

Her face pinched. But, if she were to be accurate, she needed to be thorough, and so she mumbled "After getting a look _but I think he was just shocked and the moment I realized I turned-_ "

But Yang was already in hysterics again.

"That...doesn't strike me as too unusual?" Weiss commented, however.

At Blakes silence and Yang's continued laughter, Weiss sighed as she grumbled out a pseudo-compliment. "He may be unable to get a clue, or is too persistent for his own good, but he's never...tried anything weird, I guess?"

Yang paused, somehow managing to go from gut-shaking- _and-only-gut_ -shaking laughter to sober in less time than it took Ruby to inhale her coffee. "I suppose it isn't the strangest thing, yeah, but we both gave him quite the opportunities, especially miss topless-"

Weiss stifled a laugh, pretending it was a yawn and convincing no one as Blake once more nailed her partner in the face with a book, although this time Yang caught it before she could snatch it back.

"Forget I said it" Blake hissed, snatching for her book.

"Never!" Yang cackled, holding it out of her reach. "Is he the first guy who's seen your-"

As Blake _lept_ from her bed, clawing at Yang's face, Weiss laid back and tuned out the noise as best she'd learned to do. Amidst the jokes and jabs, there'd been at least some things worth thinking about, there. Tomorrow would tell more. For now, she had beauty sleep to get.

* * *

Jaune stumbled into his room, letting out a very tiny and very not-manly scream as he nearly collided with a pensive looking Pyrrha.

"U-Um, h-hi" He stammered, certain that his face was very red.

Her face changed from pondering to bemused as she saw him flounder in place, moving aside with a content "Hello, Jaune." and letting him almost stumble into the bathroom to splash _very_ cold water against his face.

She sat down on her bed, watching the sliver of his form visible through the cracked door move, curious as to his absence earlier. They hadn't planned to study, or train, so he hadn't stood her up on anything, but they were usually quite forthcoming about each other's schedule.

That being said, by his scarlet face, she had a few ideas she deemed a safely accurate judgement of what had happened.

Her pensive look returned as she followed the thought trains from station to station. Twice now, he had massaged someone (if that is indeed what he did today). It might have been Yang again, in which case she had quite a flirtatious personality and seemed to enjoy teasing her own teammates. It didn't seem much a stretch for that personality to extend to Jaune, especially since they'd already had one massage to get initial awkwardness out of the way.

Well, for her to get the awkwardness out of the way. Jaune, she'd found (within maybe half a day of being his partner) was very awkward around the opposite sex. At least, when it came to their bodies. Many years of arena based combat experiences and celebrity events had endowed her with an acute sense of when she was being watched, and while her adorable teammate had never stared at her with the open lust as some rather unsavory folk she'd known, his eyes definitely strayed just like anyone else's might. The difference was, of course, that when he looked at her he'd often realize where he was looking, flush, and then look away before even noticing that she'd seen him.

It didn't seem motivated by shame of being caught, unlike most. He genuinely seemed disappointed with himself.

For a flirtatious, teasing personality like Yang to crack jokes, she had to wonder if they bothered him. If so-

"Uh, Pyrrha?"

She blinked, glancing up at her teammate whose face was still slightly pink, but now from a thorough towel scrubbing.

"Ah, sorry. I must have spaced out" She said demurely, smiling in response to his hesitant grin.

"That's alright. I, uh, I have an apology of my own, so we're even." He said, habitually scratching his chin as he looked away, mild embarrassment now the cause of his face's pink tint.

"Oh, that's alright!" She reassured, "If massaging people helps them-"

He coughed suddenly, wheezing as she blinked. It took a moment for him to collect himself, and shortly after he rasped "Y-You, um, you guessed, then?"

Her smile widened slightly, and her voice took on the mildest of teasing notes. "I did. There aren't many things that make you quite _that_ red." She said, giggling as the mild pink deepend to a harder flush, and he turned his gaze away with another cough.

"I, um, I mean-"

She cut him off this time, her smile gentle, reaching out to lay a hand on his arm. "It's quite alright, leader, you don't need to apologize for helping our friends."

She enjoyed teasing him, yes, but to see his smile become _that_ much brighter was a treat unparalleled. For a moment, the crimson fled from his cheeks and he could only beam, before abruptly coughing and flushing slightly again.

"T-thanks but, um, I wasn't gonna apologize for Massaging Blake."

Pyrrha blinked. Well. That was unexpected.

...Was it? That was leap of a judgement to make on someone with as reserved a personality as the Faunus in question. Silence in public might not necessarily be an accurate indication of how one acted in private - Pyrrha herself didn't imagine many people would expect her to tease her Leader as much as she did. Who knew what Blake enjoyed, or sought out if she heard about it? She certainly didn't. Not to the same extent that Blake's on team might, anyways-

Pyrrha blinked as Jaune poked her forehead, his face once more devoid of red.

"Y'alright there, Pyrrha?" He asked, only semi-jokingly, as she smiled and nodded.

"Sorry, I do seem to be spacing a lot today, huh?" She asked, giggling as Jaune grinned and pretended to admonish her.

"Come now, Ms Nikos!" He declared in a _very_ over-the-top (but, to Pyrrha's amusement, not inaccurate) imitation of professor Port. "One distraction in combat could have _disastrous_ consequences!" The image, complete with Jaune using a hand to mime a very, _very_ wiggly mustache, was as funny as it was cute and she found herself doubled over with him as they tried to stifle giggles.

"A-anyways," He gasped, gut aching slightly, "I was, uh, gonna apologize for not telling you that I was massaging Blake. So, uh, I will. Sorry." He finished with a bashful grin.

"You're quite alright!" Pyrrha said, slightly breathless as they both calmed down. "I'd merely ask that you keep me updated on when you next plan on giving massages, unless you're done?" she finished on the question, before giggling as Jaune immediately went red. "I presume not, then." She said with a little trill, covering a smile as he rubbed the back of his head.

"I, um. Yeah, W-weiss, um, asked- well, 'asked' me to massage her." He mumbled, not _quite_ looking at Pyrrha's face, more like just over her left ear.

Pyrrha's smile...didn't quite thin. She wasn't petty enough to be upset that Jaune was giving a backrub to someone he quite obviously had a crush on. She certainly wasn't petty enough to try and politely steer him away from that course of action.

...That didn't mean she didn't have the tiniest, _tiniest_ fraction of pettiness in her.

But Jaune wouldn't see that. She may be young, but she was a battle-hardened warrior celebrity. If she couldn't acknowledge immature emotions, especially one's pointed at a fellow Huntress-in-training, and stifle them, than she had a lot of maturing to do.

"I see! Is that happening tomorrow?" She asked, her smile just as strong, just as bright, and he brightened as well. She didn't know if Jaune was conscious of the tension that sometimes rested between them, especially alone in their room when their other two teammates were out training together, but she certainly was. She rarely focused on it, but she felt it, and she imagined that Jaune felt, on some level, something similar. Perhaps not an awareness of why, or what, or even when, but an awareness nonetheless.

It mattered not. He was smiling, and she would take refuge in the smile he aimed at her.

"Yeah, probably tomorrow afternoon? Sorry about all this, Pyrrha." He said, a hand half-raising to his head before falling back to his side. She didn't know what to think of the fact that he was getting out of that frankly adorable habit.

"It's alright." She murmured quietly, resting a hand on his arm.

She grinned.

"Just as long as it's me next, okay?"

...Perhaps she enjoyed teasing him _almost_ as much as she enjoyed making him happy. He was just so _cute_ when he got all red and sputtery.

* * *

Sleep had come...well, it had come eventually, for Weiss. It was neither fitful nor particularly restful. She was certainly ready to face a normal school day and it's firmly-upheld concepts of what is _right_ and _proper_ for a Schnee Heiress such as herself.

She was ready for _that_ kind of day.

What she wasn't ready for was a day carrying a somewhat disturbing trend.

It hadn't taken her long to notice, not long at all. It was a minor thing, easily explained, easily understood. Indeed, it was, but the fact that her mind would frequently wander back to the Blond she had an...engagement with, this evening, was starting to get aggravating.

There was an obvious conclusion she knew, as she automatically rattled off a _perfect_ answer to the question on the board. Jaune and her had a...contentious relationship. At some point, his attempts to "woo" her had started to seem more like jokes than genuine effort, but that didn't change the fact that they still occurred. It didn't change the fact that she'd wanted to partner with Pyrrha rather badly, or change the fact that she found his attitude abrasive in many situations. And she had demanded he give her a massage.

She knew her teammates. On many levels, she _knew_ that they would never...do that, in the room. It was a foregone conclusion, something so laughable to consider that she was almost, _almost_ annoyed she'd considered it at all. But she had.

Or had she?

She ground her teeth, forcing her eyes to focus on her paper, answering the questions with aggressive scratches of her pencil.

She found herself stuck in a position of being unable to decide if she'd actually imagined that as a possibility, or only pursued the line of thought long enough to put herself in a position of demanding that Jaune prove his 'talents.'

It _infuriated_ her. She didn't like him, not romantically, not sexually. She wasn't a middle school girl, giggling and denying that she had a crush. She'd been raised in an environment of social _vultures_. There'd been some cute boys at the parties she'd attended, and every now and then one would catch her eye longer than others. Hell, that had been the case with Neptune. He'd just so happened to fall into a category filled with no small amount of traits that appealed to her, and where had that gone?

Nowhere. Crushes didn't last, not in a ballroom with dozens of men and women desperate to exploit anyone they could for the tiniest of advantages. Not in a school to prepare her for combat against monsters that could kill her or enemy hunters that could do far worse.

She knew it wasn't a crush through more than her own self-surety as well. She could admit, to herself privately, sure, that Jaune wasn't unattractive. She could also admit that while he may have been weak at first, he'd grown. Nothing to sneeze at, but nothing to find particular amazing either. Right now he was only slightly under average in terms of combat ability - he wasn't worthless, but he certainly didn't appeal to her the way Neptune had.

So, why, heavens above _why_ could she not stop thinking about what would happen that night? Her knuckles popped as she gripped her pencil tighter, banishing images of her facing away from him, baring her back-

No.

She would not.

In an instant, it was gone. She didn't expect the reprieve to last. She may be confident in her awareness of how she felt, but she knew that she was 17, and she knew that one lone thought didn't change a state of mind, but just as well as she knew those things did she know _this_ thing.

Jaune would _not_ be seeing her back, tonight.

* * *

It was sorta funny, how he noticed. He'd wrapped up the quiz (what questions he could manage to answer, at least) and let his eyes wander around the room. His gaze passed across Weiss, and for a moment he saw her grip her pencil until her knuckles were white.

His eyebrows pinched together, mimicking the motion with his own left hand for a moment, before glancing down as the action brought a shocking twinge of _pain_.

It took a healthy amount of self-restraint to not smack his forehead. Of course. He'd given two _lengthy_ massages to two people on two sequential nights, in roundabout the same places on their body. Of _course_ his hands would start to ache. It even made sense that he wouldn't notice until now, as he'd always had a pretty loose grip of pencils.

He frowned, focusing as he alternated between stretching his fingers out and clenching them in. He didn't know any legitimate ways to stretch his own hands, but even his shoddy control could still manage to let a trickle of aura into his hands. The relief was palpable, aches and tightness fading as he sighed, rubbing at his wrist. He'd keep this up until the end of class and see how he felt. If it continued, he'd probably check with Pyrrha or Ren about exercises he could do with his hands, especially since he didn't want them to be aching while he massaged Weiss' pale-

His teeth hit each other with a lip-muffled click. He scowled.

He scowled harder.

…

 _Handstrailingdownthecurvesofherlithebackbeforediggingin-_

Had he not been in class, surrounded by people, easily embarrassed by public attention, and probably six or seven other reasons, he'd have screamed.

Indeed, just like the previous day, it proved to be a _long_ class.

* * *

Thankfully, however, today had some practical training. Even more thankfully was that he could be paired up with his partner and not put up on stage with Cardin, again. That was nice.

What was less nice was that Weiss and Ruby were behind Pyrrha, and Weiss seemed rather a bit more magnetic than usual to his eyes.

Pyrrha noticed, of course. It'd be insulting to both of them to assume she wouldn't, and it took one glance for her to realize why. He'd considered asking if they could switch, but she didn't bring it up and Jaune figured that he might as well practice keeping his focus on a target.

It didn't go so well, but the effort made the aches worth it, right?

Hah.

How very wrong.

One short lapse, one quick scolding, multiple apologies from his wonderful, terrifyingly skilled partner to brush off as he had upper arm wrapped later, he sat at lunch, alone this time as Pyrrha checked in with Glynda concerning a project due in a week or two.

He glared at his plate.

He liked to imagine it glared back, but meat and potatoes could only form so many expressions.

So, with a sigh and a grimace as he forgot to use the uninjured hand, he started to eat-

"Will that be problematic?" Said a familiar, dry voice.

He managed to not choke, calmly washing down the bite with juice, before meeting the eyes of his kind-of-maybe-okay-still crush. She glanced down at his bandaged arm, arching a single eyebrow.

He managed to hold her gaze somewhat steadily this time, gently rotating his shoulder to feel out the changes in pain.

"I...don't think so." He finally said, comparing its current ache to its original ache. "I heal quick, especially when I've only got one practical and it's already done. Should be good as new when- um, later." He lamely finished. It was gratifying to see her also have a reaction to the implication, before she turned and left for her table, even if it was only a small twitch. At least he wasn't alone in his feelings of 'hey excuse me what the heck?'

Hah. Hahh.

Yeah right.

Without a Pyrrha and her patented "Optimistically praise the leader's strong points and bolster his weak ones with her own strengths!" technique on hand, his thoughts drifted towards negative space.

His crush, and though he liked to think she wasn't anymore she _definitely_ still was, probably just wanted to confirm doubts of hers. The chances of her even considering another massage, no matter how good he might be, were so close to zero that it would be pointless to even estimate the distance between the two.

He sighed, glumly bringing more food to his mouth. He wasn't even sure he'd be able to find any enjoyment tonight, what with his nerves being through the roof at the thought of massaging _Weiss Frigging Schnee_ , because he was sure he'd be thinking of how she'd want to interact with him even less when they were done. She'd probably be disappointed with him - how the hell could he compare to the kind of massages she must have had, growing up as a rich heiress?

The urge to bang his head on the table was resisted, this time. Instead, he finished what remains of his meal he could stomach, and went to class early. Hopefully Port's booming version of small talk could distract him from his intrusive, self-deprecating brain.

Hah. Hahh. Hahhhhh.

* * *

The day passed. Jaune only had two minor internal meltdowns, Weiss only nearly broke two pencils, Pyrrha only had to restrain a laugh four times as she watched both of them in class, and before any of them knew it, Jaune's arm was healed and it was almost six o'clock.

* * *

As he was returning to his room with a couple snacks, he passed Blake, Yang and Ruby. he waved amiably, glancing back as they passed each other, only to see Blake raise an eyebrow and Yang to leer, where Ruby couldn't see. He felt his face heat up about seven million degrees, but managed to contain the urge to scream, cry, and run away - all at the same time.

He waited in his room for the ten minutes remaining, knowing it was stupid and everyone was gone and he should just _go_ and get the ordeal over with and figure out how to never look at his crush again.

But he didn't move. He sat, on his bed, alone in the room, and waited.

Pyrrha was in the library, working on Glynda's project, whereas Ren and Nora had apparently gotten permission to take a short vacation for reasons Jaune wasn't entirely aware of. Ren had indicated, in far shorter words than normal (and wasn't that a feat) that it was family related, but seeing as Ren had never mentioned anything about family, that meant Jaune had no idea where they'd gone or when they'd be back, aside from 'soon.'

His scroll unhelpfully beeped, telling him it was six. He swallowed. His first attempt to stand failed, as his legs didn't obey, and his second attempt had him standing but immobile. He groaned, wishing he could just hide in his bed, hide and forget about these stupid massages, because he didn't _want_ to face her inevitable disappointment. He _knew_ Weiss didn't like him, he wasn't _stupid_ , but the status quo was better than what could only result from this.

...But that wasn't what Pyrrha's leader would do, was it?

Ren's leader wouldn't hide, and whimper.

Nora's leader wouldn't be immobilized by fear, and doubt.

JNPR's leader would feel them, yes, but he'd act anyways. He had to.

His legs moved, though he wasn't entirely sure it was him moving them, and his arm opened the door. A few paces later had him in front of the door, and his gut twisted and curdled and _burned_ like he'd swallowed a lit coal.

His hand continued to move, independent of his will, rapping thrice on the heavy door.

For an instant, he imagined a world where she was gone, and it'd have been utter stupidity for him to ever imagine this as actually happening-

The door opened.

She had removed her blazer and kept the skirt on, but she didn't look particularly ready for a back massage. Before he could speak, she shoved a small plastic container under his nose. After fumbling fingers managed to pluck it from her grasp she sat down on a comfortable looking chair and gestured to Blake's bed.

"Um." He said, eloquently.

She rolled her eyes, impatiently gesturing again, and his legs obeyed her before his brain had finished processing the strangeness of all this, absentmindedly placing his scroll on the edge of Blake's bed.

"Open the jar and get ready." she said in a somewhat clipped tone, before lifting one bare leg and resting it next to him.

"You'll be massaging my feet."

What.

* * *

It had taken a moment, but after a short noise of displeasure she found he was following her instructions quite succinctly. She wrinkled her nose briefly as the scent of menthol started to permeate the room before turning her focus to Jaune. He'd worked the material on to his hands, but now floundered slightly. Before she could reprimand him (though part of her knew that she really ought to be a little more courteous, but it was easier to ignore that annoying voice), he set his expression, placed both hands on one foot, gently felt along the surface of her sole for a moment, and began to push.

She inhaled sharply, repressing a groan of satisfaction as his fingers immediately found and pressed into a prominent ache, the gel cooling her skin and easing the pain. It's effects, though, didn't hold a candle to what he was managing with his hands. By his mildly panicked expression before she'd gathered that he'd never given someone a footrub, but had he not made that face she'd have assumed he had a decent level of experience with-

She froze slightly, catching herself in the middle of a tight groan.

It was then, at this point, that she realized a small problem with her logic from earlier.

She might have succeeded in ensuring Jaune didn't see her back, but she'd never gotten a professional foot massage before. She kept herself out of view, but she had _no_ experience in what a footrub would feel like from someone who knew what they were doing, and he clearly did.

...Well, it was too late to back out now, a satisfied sounding part of her mind thought as he shifted on the bed to get better leverage- no, he had just taken her other foot into his hands.

...Oh dear.

* * *

He'd been shocked, at first. Angry, for a moment, surprisingly enough. Her _feet_? Really? A tiny, nasty little voice had grumbled something in a poisonous tone about stuffy heiresses thinking they were better than others, but with a rush of determination he crushed that thought. He'd never used a rub before but it seemed pretty self explanatory.

...Now came the problem at hand.

Or, at foot. Hah.

He'd given footrubs to his sisters countless times, but these were _Weiss_ ' feet, and that was a whole different ballpack. They weren't any less scary than the idea of seeing and touching her back, considering how _long_ her legs were-

He cut that train of thought off firmly, habit helping to shut down such thoughts about his sometimes-teammate.

Still, his convictions on how he looked at and thought of his friends didn't change just how disconcerting this challenge was.

...But Pyrrha's leader wouldn't back away from a challenge, even if that challenge was defeating his own desire to run away from a scary situation.

He brought his fingers to her sole, gentle as always at first. He had his work cut out for him, considering she seemed to spend half her life in heels.

Having run out of ways he could put it off, he squared his shoulders, positioned his thumb just so, and _pushed_.

Out of the corner of his eye, in some part of his perception not focused on manicured nails and smooth skin, he saw her back _arch_. For an instant he feared that it was more painful that helpful, and his doubts nearly slammed him over, but she relaxed after another instant, and so he warily continued. He barely had to even look for specific points to rub - her whole foot might as well be one big knot. Still, he tried not to focus all his attention on one single place, pushing a thumb up the arch of her foot and watching her toes flex in response. While staring at her feet felt a little bit weird, it helped him ignore the slowly-growing, disgusting urges to look higher.

He twisted, experimentally moving his fingers higher up-

"M-Mmm-"

The sound stopped as soon as it had started, barely an instant of noise. Nevertheless, his face _burned_. She'd sounded so, so-

He shivered, his hands shaking slightly as he switched feet, if only to force himself to focus on a new set of motions.

This, as it happened, was a bad idea.

She made the...noise, again. It was just as short, and she cut it off again, but his face still felt hot from hearing his crush sound like _that_.

He had a feeling that this massage would take a long time.

* * *

Weiss was both slightly embarrassed and extremely grateful that Jaune was staring so intently at her feet. After the second _groan, not moan_ , she'd managed to control her voice a bit better, but she'd watched rather attentively, despite the wonderful pain of his massage, as his face had turned bright red.

She knew, had he looked up, he'd have seen a similar color on her own.

...She desperately hoped Yang hadn't walked by the room, then. That would be far too conveniently inconvenient, and the blonde would _never let it go._

Thankfully, for Weiss, Yang had indeed not crossed by the dorm in that moment.

Less thankfully for Weiss, Jaune's hands began to cramp. With barely a thought spared for the aches, he flooded his hands with aura to erase them and continued to work.

This, as it turned out, was a wonderfully _horrible_ idea as far as both of them were concerned.

Jaune, for one, regretted touching his aura the second he'd pushed it through his palms, restraining a flinch as she made another one of _those_ noises. A moan, and it was definitely a moan as far as he was concerned, slipped from her lips as she arched her back again, pushing her feet against his hands.

Meanwhile, Weiss fought the urge to slap a hand over her mouth, refusing to resort to such measures when she was _perfectly capable_ of controlling her-

"M-Mnnn…"

...perhaps the hand wasn't that bad of an idea.

* * *

It wasn't long before Jaune felt as though steam ought to be rushing out of his ears.

This was…

Well, her moans weren't quite Yang's potentially-and-probably exaggerated levels, yet, but this still seemed far _worse._

Yang was attractive, and while he'd never get the words out when speaking he could think it relatively fine (and it definitely was easier to think about that because he'd take _anything_ over thinking about Weiss's moans of pleasure) but Weiss was...well, moaning.

His crush. Was Moaning.

Because of _him_.

He wasn't even entirely sure _why,_ since she'd been doing basically fine earlier, but she _was_ and holy _god_ was it distracting and, ah, _interesting._

Weiss herself wasn't entirely sure what had changed, but she was undecided on whether or not it was a good or bad thing.

On one hand, which was definitely not pressed against her mouth and if it were would still barely manage to muffle a few...sounds, she was making some noises that Yang would laugh to death upon hearing.

On the other hand, firmly gripping her skirt, this was…

Well.

Making her make _sounds_.

Whatever he'd done differently, it seemed to actually be healing her muscles. Her feet were doing more than just relaxing, they felt _better_. She'd grown quite skilled at running, jumping, and generally maneuvering in heels, but they still left her feet aching after long training sessions, and those familiar aches were vanishing under his fingers. It wasn't an overtly pleasurable feeling, but it felt _good_ nonetheless.

Unfortunately, the aches were fading, and the wonderful feeling she had to assume was related to said ache-fading was also beginning to rescind.

In a flash of sudden, selfish desire, she spoke up abruptly.

"H-Higher."

Jaune froze, feeling as though someone had injected metal into his veins.

"U-Um." He said, voice probably an octave higher than normal.

For the first time, he risked a glance up and froze solid.

She was _gorgeous_.

Her cheeks were tinted pink, gentle enough to not contrast with her pale skin, a single hand resting a few fingers on her chin and one on her lips, her eyes pointed firmly at the wall and definitely not at him. Her hair was slightly ruffled, her shirt wrinkled, her lips parted-

"Higher. M-massage, higher. My calves." She finished shortly, slightly breathless.

She'd have never said that, in her right mind. She knew that. For a moment, her mind hung on that thought, but she couldn't find the significance. At the same time, a burning curiosity had taken root in her gut.

As his hands slowly but surely began to drift up, crossing her ankles, towards her calves, the gel rub forgotten on the bed, she felt that curiosity be satisfied. It wasn't just her feet, the muscles in her calves, strained and knotted but not healed by her own aura, unwound and relaxed at his touch. It felt wonderful, days of accumulated stress that wasn't damage to warrant healing but certainly hurt nonetheless being washed away by his fingers. She watched, watched his red face as he stared determinedly at her knees. While she hadn't been entirely...focused through the entire massage, and even less so now, she was reasonably confident that not once had he looked up, except when she had told him to move away from her feet.

She was sitting in front of him, legs extended, and not once had he followed their length.

...That wasn't entirely impressive, all things considered. Basic human decency wasn't to be lauded as if it were special.

Yet, it was more than that, wasn't it? Not only had he never looked, he hadn't even tried. Hadn't moved and caught himself, not tried to flick his eyes up, suddenly started as he realized his gaze was drifting. Here he was, a young adult who'd probably never had a girlfriend, massaging the feet of someone he had a rather obvious crush on, and he'd never once even had to stop himself from trying.

Basic human decency need not be lauded...but could it be questioned?

That question, which may have crossed her mind on any day but certainly never be vocalized, slipped from lips loosened by a firm, shockingly relaxing massage and a curiosity that had been sparked by the conversation from last night (and inflamed by a day of waiting).

"Why...Why don't you look?"

He froze, face scarlet, staring hard at her knees. He considered her words, remembered that while he had thought of Blake's back all night, he tried not to think about her front. How it felt wrong, made him feel gross. He considered his conviction to not look at her _that_ way, to not follow the track of her legs. He considered what that meant, considered the attraction he felt to the beauty before him, considered what felt like a thousand things that could never be explained in one response, and answered her question as best he could.

"Because, I, I have no _right_ to look."

She didn't flinch, or drop her jaw or stare in astonishment. That was, of course, not to say she wasn't surprised. To hear such a vehement, yet honest answer from the usually meek and, paradoxically, flirtatious boy, even if said flirtations were mostly in jest, on such a subject was...Well, it was unexpected. On top of that, the answer itself was...odd.

"No, no right?" She couldn't help but ask, biting back a groan as his fingers began to push again, slowly rubbing circles into her calves without much thought.

His brain was struggling to cooperate, to put something into words that he himself didn't fully understand, and much like the recipient of his massage (not, of course, that he'd know,) his tongue had been loosened far beyond its norm.

"I, don't get me wrong, W-Weiss. I, I want to look." He laughed bitterly, admitting something like that to her after they'd seemed like they were on better terms was hard, but he would not- _could not_ be dishonest to her now. "But...I can't. It would feel like I'm, like i'm _using_ you, l-looking at you like that. I, I have no right because you haven't given me _permission_. To look, to even _want_ to look, it-it's _wrong_."

Now, while still not speechless, this _definitely_ shocked her. That the boy who had done nothing but badly flirt with her when they'd first met would have such a perspective, compared to the boys who _already_ whistled when she walked by, covered in sweat from training while heading to the showers, or who asked her out relentlessly...As with most things that concerned the blond before her, she was becoming to realize, it wasn't what she'd expect. Not only was he actively choosing not to because it was _disrespectful_ to her, but he was willing to admit, _to her face_ , that he wanted to look and, judging by his tone, those thoughts _sickened_ him.

A little voice in the back of her head that did nothing but add fuel to her insecurities suddenly seemed small. She had to probe deeper, just a bit farther, she _had_ to know.

"...You want to look?"

Naturally, he misinterpreted that.

He laughed bitterly once more, hands slowing again as he grimaced. "It's disgusting, isn't it? But I, I won't lie to you. Not now. Even if it means you hate me, even if-"

She cut his rambling off by pressing a hand firmly against his mouth, lifting his head to look him in the eye, realizing at the same time that there was someone there she hadn't noticed.

"I don't hate you." She said firmly, that same voice yowling that she was being _too honest_ firmly silenced. "I, I definitely didn't like you, at first, but I...I don't hate you."

She pulled away, suddenly realizing how closely she'd leaned in to do that. He was still scarlet, but was now staring open-mouthed at her, frozen in place and barely breathing.

"Y-you don't?" He asked in a tiny voice, plain to see that he had felt very conflicted on this subject as of late.

She grimaced internally, but knew that to retreat now, in any direction, would be an affront to her pride. "No, I don't. It's, well," she paused again, actually grimacing this time, looking away but speaking before he could misinterpret what she meant. "It's...admirable, the courage it took to, to admit that."

It would have been so easy to shout, to get angry, to label him as some perverted idiot like plenty of men at Beacon, but she couldn't fall into that pit trap. _Of course_ he wanted to look, it was without vanity that she acknowledged her own beauty, but to admit that and to feel _guilty_ over it? She knew of grown men who did not have either that honesty, that courage, or that respect for her or other women.

He looked away again, face slowly lightening in color, and she only noticed that he was breathing easier now because of how _different_ it made him look. He sat a bit higher, shoulders dropped from a position of tension, and that only made her realize even more just how much this had been _bothering_ him.

"T-thank you." He whispered, looking so _relieved_ that she couldn't help but feel a little bad for him. "I was so, so sure that you would hate me if you knew, I just felt so _awful_ every time I thought about it…"

She sighed slightly, leaning back into her chair, absentmindedly noting that his hands had started moving again. "I'm really not someone to talk to about this, but those kind of thoughts, well…" she worked her teeth, growing more and more uncomfortable with this kind of topic, "I mean-"

"It's, it's alright." he cut her off, and she turned to glare at him she was met only with a gentle, shaky smile. "We, we don't have to talk about this. Not now, m-maybe not ever. I, I had a talk like this with, um, Pyrrha, so I already got the, ah, ' _all this is normal to feel'_ talk. Not this context, but..." he tapered off as Weiss let out a sound that vaguely sounded like a giggle.

The half-snicker-half-giggle had crept up on her out of nowhere at his Pyrrha impression, causing him to flush slightly and turn away, smiling as well. Neither of them spoke after that, lapsing into a silence that was surprisingly comfortable, his hands gently and almost automatically seeking out tension in her calves and feet to press out. There wasn't an oppressive need to speak, to fill the silence after the conversation they'd just had, with how honest they'd just been.

Still, he found himself struck with the realization that all of this was actually happening. He wasn't dreaming, this wasn't some fantasy, he was actually massaging the feet and legs of his crush and she _wasn't turning him away_. He couldn't tell if it was making him emotional or merely even more nervous, the butterflies in his stomach and throat could be both.

However, he also knew that the massage had to come to an end. Even if he could make an excuse of just giving her a long footrub, despite having long worked out the kinks and tension in her feet and calves, he had homework to do and the rest of team RWBY wouldn't keep away for much longer. He'd have to leave then regardless of pretenses of massages, and while he very much so wanted to stay around and keep massaging her, even if it was her feet, because it was _Weiss_ and he never thought he'd be this close to her without her trying to hurt him, after what they'd just said to each other it would sorely defeat the point.

That didn't mean he was subtle about it, not for lack of effort however. With visible reluctance, not that he knew, he finally felt his hands slow to a stop, fingers lingering on the smooth skin of her legs, grazing down them in a gesture that would have been suggestive and deserving of a smack if not for his prior honesty and the mood of the room. With his gaze tracking the lengths of her leg beneath his fingers, he missed the very slight dusting of pink that crossed Weiss' pale face at his gentle touch.

He leaned back, absentmindedly rubbing his hands, feeling the warmth of his aura finally start to drain, the weariness and soreness returning (Which didn't entirely make sense but he wasn't about to focus on anything else but his crush right now).

The silence continued, now becoming slightly awkward as Jaune was no longer doing anything that justified him remaining in the room, growing stronger as Weiss put her feet back on the ground, letting out a contented groan as she stretched her legs out, quickly shifting one of them so as to not kick Jaune in the face. Reflexively, he leaned to the side, but did not have the foresight to lean in the correct direction. Thusly, his lean and forward gaze took him straight between Weiss's legs-

There was no moment of pause and gaping astonishment, like with Blake. The instant he realized what exactly he was looking at, he bent backwards so fast he could have sworn he heard his back crack, and smacked his head against the bed frame behind him.

Apparently, according to the throbbing pain in his skull, he'd used a lot more aura than he'd thought during the massage.

Weiss hadn't missed this, but the reflexive rebuke was caught before it could escape as she pondered recent events, and declarations, by the now wincing and scarlet-faced Blond before her. She...didn't quite laugh, or giggle, merely exhaling through her nose, before pulling her knees together and looking at Jaune, who's gaze had been attracted by the movement.

For a moment they merely stared at each other in silence. Then, she sighed internally, and knew the correct course of action here.

Her lips curled up slightly as she said, quiet and gentle, "Thanks, Jaune."

His blush only seemed to deepen as his crush whispered a meaningful thank you to him, and his face lit up like he'd been handed the world. Or like she'd kissed him on the cheek.

She blinked, slightly perturbed at the sudden, inexplicably romantic thought, kicking it to dust. No way in hell would she do that for anyone after _one_ leg massage, now matter how good they were.

...or what noises they managed to make her make, she internally acquiesced. Granted that she'd _felt_ her aching muscles relax, and feel as though they were neither torn nor stressed to begin with, was more than she could say about any other masseur or masseuse she'd interacted with-

...What the hell was going on?

He reached up, nervously rubbing his aching head. "I, um, It's-" he cut off, coughing, before looking up at her, suddenly resolute. He seemed to square his shoulders, obviously holding firm his courage, and for a brief instant she worried he'd try and do something cheesy and romantic again, that fear washing away her previous confusion.

"It makes me happy to help you feel better, Weiss. I-I mean that."

She only hummed, relieved, motioning for him to stand up as she walked over to the door.

"I'll keep that in mind, next time I come back here after a long training session." She said simply, conversationally, not at all missing the way that Jaune looked simultaneously stunned beyond belief and as if someone had handed him her own inheritance.

Then, she put on here best good-natured scowl, knowing that Jaune _probably_ saw right through it, and flicked her head, smacking his face with her ponytail as she opened the door.

"Get back to your room, I've got homework to do." She ordered simply, and with no small blush and a smile that could light up a room, he nodded and obeyed.

She shut the door behind him, absentmindedly ordering a few haphazard things in the room, putting the chair back in a closet, and changing into her nightgown. As she slipped under her covers, far more relaxed than she expected to be, she pondered the events of today from a perspective of new words and new, admitted truths.

'I want to look, but I can't.'

'It would feel like i'm using you'

The skeptic in her pondered whether this was an attempt in a rather long con, which would still explain his apparent reluctance.

But would he have nearly cracked his own head open, to continue 'refusing to look' at her? While she hadn't intended to accidentally put him squarely between her legs, she hadn't missed the strangled look on his face in the instant he realized what he was seeing.

'Even if you hate me.'

The possibilities lending themselves to him being able to delude himself, or a sufficiently skilled actor, were so outlandish that, while not forgotten, she didn't consider them especially likely.

She breathed deeply, relaxing under the weight of her heavy, expensive blankets, and began to fall into an easy doze as phantom fingers flickered along her feet and calves. In her dreams, these faceless, ownerless fingers strayed higher, but her sleeping mind didn't bear enough coherency to reject this idea. And if it helped her sleep?

It's not like she would tell anyone.

Of course, had she been fully awake, the fact that her thoughts had strayed so much on the Blond would have perturbed her, or how her thoughts had started to get slippery in the latter half of the massage. But she wasn't, so they didn't, and she dreamed on of a relaxing massage.

* * *

Half an hour later, the rest of her team filtered in. Yang pouted, opportunities to tease Weiss lost to the fact that even she wasn't mean enough to interrupt her teammates sleep for something like that. Blake had nothing to say, and Ruby seemed confused why her partner had gone to sleep so early.

Then, as Blake prepared for bed, she crouched, glanced under her bed with a quizzical eyebrow raised, before nodding and pulling her book out from under it. No one noticed the scroll she snagged off the ground, a selfie of Jaune and Pyrrha on it's lock screen, and a few minutes after that she slipped out wordlessly. This was not uncommon, so neither Yang nor Ruby questioned it beyond tilted heads and pursed lips.

She crossed the hallway, lightly knocking on JNPR's door. Hesitant footsteps followed after a moment of quiet shuffling on fabric, and the door cracked open to reveal blue eyes and blonde hair.

"Uh, hi Blake!" Jaune said with his usual exuberance.

He looked...good. Not in an attractive way, but in how his body language suggested he felt. He was standing tall (a far cry better than his slightly hunched posture from earlier, in the hallway), though his hands trembled slightly against the door. Having just come out of a massage though, that made sense.

She eyed him for another few moments, before wordlessly holding up his scroll.

"Oh!" He exclaimed, eyes lighting up as he reached out to take it.

In a flicker of spontaneity, Blake twitched it out of his grasp.

He stared, baffled, hand still stretched, her name on his tongue.

"...How was it?" She asked, finally figuring out what she was curious about.

He flushed scarlet, but looked strangely pleased at the same time.

...Huh. Weiss would have some questions tomorrow morning, it seemed.

"I see." She said dryly, placing the scroll in his hand, biting back a chuckle as he spluttered in confusion. With a casual wave, she bid him goodnight and returned to the room, silently slipping under her covers and opening her book to a familiar page.

...What an odd exchange.

* * *

Jaune remained standing for a few moments, highly confused. After another few moments, however, he figured it'd be best not to question it right now. Absentmindedly tossing his scroll on to a charging pad, he dropped down into his bed and fell into the easiest sleep he'd had in two days.

Half an hour later, Pyrrha returned to a dark room, eyed the opposing room's door with a pensive stare, before gently shifting an errant lock of blond hair out of her leaders face and settling down into her own bed for the night.

Later still, amidst dreams of alabaster skin and platinum hair, palms and fingers _ached_.

* * *

 **Uhhh**

 **Surprise?**

 **It's been a long time coming. Not so long ago i'd have apologized for the wait and promised to do better, but i'll save those words for now.**

 **I'm not cancelling or dropping the story, or opening it to adoption.**

 **That being said, I am taking a hard look at myself, and what I expect in the future. That being, I** _ **don't**_ **expect a fundamental shift in my personality and to suddenly gain the motivation necessary to pump out chapters every two weeks.**

 **Is it possible? Yes, of course.**

 **Is it** _ **probable**_ **? Yes as well, but a slightly smaller yes.**

 **I'm neither busy nor undergoing emotional crises left and right. I'm returning to college in a week and a half, but I have yet to be so swamped with work that I literally had no time to write. I merely lacked the motivation to do so.**

 **I don't know if that'll change, or how it would in the first place. All I know is that I don't intend to drop the story, and I have planned it out to a lengthy degree.**

 **I've never really said this in any public forum, but I feel it's deserved.**

 **I** _ **hate**_ **the original version of Massages. I hate the terrible writing, the terrible direction, the only thing I don't hate is that the original Massages is how I met that stories co-writer, Exvnir.**

 **I've changed a lot in the five years-ish, give or a take a few months, since I wrote that story. I resolved to never delete it, but to use it as a showing of how I've grown since then. But that doesn't mean I want to keep everything from that era.**

 **My current penname is a relic from a time when I was significantly less mature and obsessed with scythes, so I twisted "The Reaper" into "Hte Rarpee". It's dumb, lame, and lots of negative adjectives, but it's also a reminder of who I was, back then.**

 **At the same time, I'm not who I was. I dropped the original Massages because I couldn't stomach it anymore, but I decided to rewrite it because I wanted to do** _ **better**_ **.**

 **So, I'm going to drop my old name, but use something just as lame and dumb to signify that while I may have improved as a writer, i'm still a huge damn idiot who likes cheap, uninventive wordplay.**

 **Unfortunately the url is already taken on Tumblr, so i'll just add "-writes" to the end of it.**

 **Cheers y'all,**

 **-Stromael**

 **(Yes I used it for some dumb bullshit in the previous chapter no i don't care stop looking at me.)**

 **PS. I have made both a tumblr account and an AO3 account, where I'll be posting chapters of this story and my other fanfictions, which might someday not be all RWBY. What a momentous occasion that will be.**

 **Feel free to send me asks on Tumblr at Stromael-writes.**

 **And as always, thanks to my lovely beta, Akardos. She's a sweetiepie who deserves the world.**

 **EDIT:**

 **Thank you to the folks who left reviews! Two of them stood out, and I wanted to preemptively clarify elements relating to their subject matter, before I forget to. I'd normally put this in the next chapter but I don't want to wait on these.**

 **From FF8cerberus  
** **"Decent chapter. Surprised how cynical Weiss is. She really believes everyone has another motive from what they actually present. Only 17 and she's thinking like this. Sad to see. At least, Jaune has made some progress towards her, intentional or not."**

 **My beta pointed this out, but I forgot to add clarifying elements, though I did touch on the reason for this cynicism. Weiss was raised in High Politics, as the narration addressed in the early third of the chapter. She doesn't necessarily doubt everyone's motives and the truthfulness of their words, but she was exposed to and educated on how manipulative people can be to achieve goals. She had to be made aware of this, so she could best represent a presumably extraordinarily high value company at public and private events. I feel this upbringing justifies an ingrained habit of doubting people, especially when their actions and words point to a goal of getting close to her. While that may not be extremely accurate to her canon interactions, this story is already au anyways.**

 **Next, from a guest:**

 **"My one complaint is that Jaune seems to be extreme with regard to "respecting dah wamen". I don't want to bring politics in this, but it will be the easiest way to explain: Jaune's mentality seems to be extremely far left, and seems to equate glancing at a woman's "fun bits" it tantamount to rape.  
** **That being said if you are attempting to characterized Jaune similarly to that description, then I must say that you are adeptly showing the inner turmoil that one such individual would likely feel often."**

 **I also don't want to bring politics into it, so I wont. Jaune grew up with seven sisters. Given that I'm already leaning on a couple shounen tropes (but don't worry, I intend to play with them and keep things interesting) it only made sense to me that he would have an ingrained sense of boundaries. He doesn't view looking at a woman sexually as tantamount to rape, but it still a violation - it's the difference between someone being on a public beach in a bikini and someone being accidentally seen in underwear. In one case, assuming there was no pressure involved, that person is _choosing_ to be seen in public wearing that amount of clothing.**

 **For Jaune, it's all about permission. Neither Weiss nor Blake _gave him permission_ to look at them that way. With Blake and Weiss both it was an accident, but in this story Jaune, again having been raised with eight female influences, and his aforementioned shounen tropes, values the necessity of permission _very_ highly. All of this is further compounded by him considering both Blake and Weiss (and Pyrrha, as was evident in her memories of his glances and subsequent reaction) to be his friends, and therefore it is even more wrong for him to do so.**

 **I do not consider it an extreme mindset, but it definitely is different than normal. This is entirely intentional, and I am well aware of how it might read a bit strangely. This** _will_ **become relevant and noticed in the future of the story - it's not pointless, don't worry.**

 **I apologize for the lengthy commentary and edits, but I felt it was very important to clarify these two points earlier rather than later. If you've stuck around this long, leave a review and tell me what you think! Feel free to put requests in reviews or in my tumblr askbox for things you'd like to see in future chapters!**


	4. Scarlet Champion

**mom holy fuck**

* * *

Weiss did not often have nightmares, but her unconscious mind was not always a pleasant place to be. While there lay a fine line between comparing upbringings and looking down on others for not being like her, in her opinion she toed that line quite well, considering she actually _knew_ what it was like to experience her upbringing.

She may have been provided for in every circumstance, but she also had a near nonexistent childhood. She may have had the chance to attend high-class parties and dine on excellent food, but every ball was a battlefield with everyone actively looking to and successfully exploiting whoever was caught unawares. Once she was expected to interact with the world of the adults she was expected to be able to reasonably hold her own. Winter shielded her from the worst, but Jacques was unrelenting and unwilling to give her leeway. She was expected at a young age to stand up to an onslaught of criticism and attempted manipulation, with her father keeping only a close enough eye to ensure she did not harm their shared name.

She did not need, but she _wanted._ She had what was necessary, but lacked what was _good_.

Then her Mother died.

What came after didn't need remembering.

Her dreams were not all painful, cold nightmares. But to wake up from a world where one's family is whole and happy just to be reminded of the impossibility of that dream being reality was worse than many nightmares.

While she did not have such a dream, not that she remembered anyways, what tattered memories she retained did not paint an enjoyable picture. It had been a faint, minor hope, that perhaps a pleasant massage and insightful discussion might have brought happier dreams, and indeed it was possible she had dreamt of _something_ of the sort that night, but what did it matter if she could not recall it?

No, her dreams had not changed. One act did not grant her more peace at night - it had been foolish to even hope.

...What came after was a different story. A small story, miniscule in comparison to others, but Weiss Schnee found some amount of comfort in holding the small things to her heart. It meant little in the long wrong, and in only days would be undone, but why should a morning devoid of pain in her legs not be worth celebrating? It need not be extravagant, but if she lay in bed for longer than normal to revel in the residual warmth of her covers instead of claiming the shower first, who would care enough to berate her?

"Weeiiiss? Are you dying?"

...Her partner would, apparently.

Weiss grumbled, turning to glare at her partners shadowed face, overhanging hair catching the morning light and glowing _far too much_ from her precarious hammock-bed-monstrosity.

"I wish." She muttered dryly, closing her eyes to avoid inevitable blindness.

Ruby leaned even farther down, _somehow_ managing to not fall off her worryingly angled bed. "Weiss, nooooo."

Weiss groaned, rubbing her face tiredly before gesturing to the bathroom door. "Go shower, Ruby. I'm tired."

As expected, Ruby lit up at the prospect of getting the shower before Weiss, who usually stepped in first and hogged it for 'wayyy too long!' She half clambered, half collapsed out of her bed, Weiss once more questioning how many days before it fell in the middle of the night and killed her, and practically dove into the bathroom.

Once more, the room was blissfully silent.

But without a groggy, post-sleep fog anymore, Weiss remembered what more there was to the 'insightful conversation' she'd had.

What happened yesterday wasn't especially special - it wasn't as though she had been inebriated, or otherwise had lost some of her inhibitions.

Would she have asked the questions she did under normal circumstances? No, of course not. But it was less a situation of "I felt so pleasured I couldn't control my tongue" and more that the environment and mood of the room had been tapered to a fine enough point to pierce the normal barrier preventing conversation of that nature from occuring-

Weiss paused, bemused by the strangeness of that particular analogy and how it had gotten away from her.

The point was, it was the same thing as having an emotional conversation with your teammate where you get things off your chest and go back to the standard dynamic the following day. It was...nice.

Didn't mean she wouldn't exaggerate her dislike of the blond now and then, if it meant fittingly snippy comment would be made. Didn't mean she'd be begging him for a massage, either. Things would continue on, but…

She sighed, finally rising, lifting her arms up to stretch muscles and pop joints, turning and swinging her legs off the bed.

...Perhaps she'd exaggerate a little less, once in a blue moon.

The sound of the shower kicked on, and having clearly been waiting for sufficiently distracting noise, Yang leaned until she could stare at Weiss. Weiss, in turn, stubbornly refused to acknowledge the look and it's joking implications and genuine questions. Yang, of course, grew impatient quickly.

"The afterglow was good enough to put you to sleep, huh~?"

Weiss twitched, finally turning a poisonous glare at the leering blonde, resisting the urge to do something as petty as raise a particular finger in response.

"If by 'afterglow' you mean," and here she floundered for a moment, before an appropriate and harder-to-sexualize word presented itself, "relaxation, then yes. I was very relaxed, and I fell asleep."

"Mmm, his fingers sure do make stress just _melt off_ , don't they!" Yang drawled, and Weiss ground her teeth and valiantly refused to give her _unbearable_ teammate the reaction she wanted.

Blake moved, finally, shutting her book with a gentle rasp of paper and sitting up. Weiss breathed a sigh of relief, confident that Blake could shut her blonde partner down faster.

"Whatever he did, it sure made him happy. He was glowing when I gave his scroll back" The faunus said dryly, words as light and airey as if this weren't _the highest betrayal_ Weiss had _ever_ experienced at Beacon. She floundered, mouth agape, trying to determine how someone could mimic Blake so well, or take over her body, or _something_.

Yang looked just as shocked, for a brief moment, before throwing her head back and cackling in delight.

"What's this what's this! Tell me more, Blake!" She begged, a golden waterfall of hair blocking Weiss' appalled expression as she leaned down to stare at her smirking partner.

Blake paused, a momentarily contemplative look crossing her face as she fingered the stub of bookmark extending from the pages, before shrugging and answering.

"He was flushed, but looked about as giddy as a newlywed on his honeymoon-"

Yang _shrieked_ , convulsing with laughter as she frantically rolled around. "Weiss, girl, _what did you do-_ "

"Shut up!" Weiss finally screeched, flinging one of her many pillows at the nearly red-in-the-face blonde. It was caught deftly, however, and Yang held it like a shield as she blurted a response between hysteric giggles.

"W-what, did you flash him too?"

Blake scowled behind a curtain of blonde hair, but Weiss didn't need to see it to know whose side would be taken the next time this happened.

"No!" She snapped, "I didn't even take my shirt off!"

At once, she realized her mistake.

Yang sobered instantly, looking perplexed as she finally moved far enough to reveal Blake, wearing a similarly interested expression. For a moment, the heiress floundered, working her jaw before giving up and biting out, "I had him give me a footrub."

There was silence only for a brief few moments before Blake rolled her eyes and Yang, voice laden with exasperation, sighed "Only you, Weiss."

She bristled, before scowling at both of them and muttering. "Neither of _you_ wear heels _every day_ -"

"Yeah, because we watch _you_ in heels ' _every day'_ and want _nothing_ to do with it." Blake cut in bluntly, restraining a smirk as Weiss snarled at the interruption.

Sensing an uncomfortable possibility for tension to blow out of proportion, Yang hastily cut in. "Hey now, no need to get too catty!" She snarked, grinning as Blake's face morphed into a scowl within a heartbeat and Weiss turned a practiced glare on her, but better they focus anger on her than each other.

Not, of course, that they needed to know that some of her teasing was to keep them from leaping at each other's throats. That'd ruin her image.

"Well, Weiss?" She continued, watching pale eyebrows furrow in response. "Having received a massage from Jauney-boy, how was he?"

Weiss grumbled again, but her face didn't quite veer into it's usual exaggeration of "I loathe talking about this manchild at all." It came close, sure, but the poison-that-really-had-little-bite was a little less present.

She sat for a moment, playing with the corner of her blanket for the duration of that moment, before finally sighing and admitting defeat on this discussion. She couldn't even stretch the truth and say she'd had far better massages, because while she indeed had received incredible massages to her back by trained professionals, she'd never had a foot massage to speak of. And, even if she tried to estimate his skill, ignoring the numerous factors influencing such an estimate, she concluded that he probably would rank pretty high with respect to how enjoyable his massage would be.

So, with another sigh, and no small amount of stubborn foot-dragging, she finally relented. "He...was skilled. I have to assume he has experience, and he knew how to use it." She said, finding the words to not taste as bad as she might have expected, or even hoped, in a strange way. It would be easier to just dislike him - his overall mediocrity meant that he dragged his team, and hers, when they cooperated. At the same time, however, this was due to him not realizing his potential and forced her to acknowledge that said potential _did exist_. If it hadn't, he wouldn't have improved at all since arriving.

Instead of being able to just write him off as a useless, womanizing idiot, she would be lying to herself if she denied that he could learn and improve. Instead of expecting uselessness from him, she'd be lying to herself if she said he wasn't surprisingly skilled when it came to some tasks.

No, she couldn't think of him as useless. Of course, that didn't obligate her to _like_ him, and she certainly didn't. But she could _tolerate_ him, and so long as he continued to improve she would be fair and recognize that.

"Soooo…?" Yang trailed off, looking expectant.

"So _what_?" Weiss grumbled, expecting another jab.

"Do you need anymore proof that nothing...bad, happened in this room?" Blake finished for her partner, finally levelling Weiss with an even stare.

Weiss flushed, remembering that 'prove it.' had been her reason for receiving a massage from Jaune in the first place, even though (especially with the power of hindsight) she'd come to the conclusion that such things had never occured in the first place.

Once more, with a small amount of grumbling, she conceded. With a stiff nod, she said; "No, I don't need anymore proof. I...don't think anything happened here." She concluded, glowering at the both of them, _daring_ them to make a joke.

Of course, when Ruby exited the shower ten minutes later, it was to the sight of Weiss furiously attempting to smother Yang to death with a pillow.

All was normal and good in life.

* * *

For Jaune, the day was _almost_ perfect. He woke up early and rested, knew that today was _not_ going to be an intense day as he had no no formal practicals scheduled, and that he'd have plenty of time to be working with Pyrrha one-on-one for free training periods. He'd spent the previous day massaging his crush, talking with her, and _oh right hearing her say she didn't hate him._

The only thing- _the only thing_ making this day imperfect was the gnarly pain in his hands. That was troublesome, and especially troublesome because, while he expected Pyrrha's backrub to be significantly less stressful than Weiss' had been, it would still suck for…

He paused, one pant leg still unfilled, frowning.

Was that true? Did he really expect it to be less stressful?

He slowed, idly pulling his pants up the rest of the way, curious why his mind had automatically assumed that to be true (and boy had it been a _task_ for Pyrrha to help him learn to recognize when assumptions like that happened.)

The majority of the stress from Weiss' massage, he concluded after having slept on it, was that A. she was his crush and B. he was certain that she'd want even less to do with him when they were done. That he'd offend her, or say something stupid, or otherwise get under her skin enough that she wiped her hands of dealing with him ever again.

He supposed, thinking about it, that none of those concerns were present because Pyrrha took so much time out of her day to reassure him that she didn't think he was useless and dearly enjoyed working with him.

He smiled, feeling as warm as he always did when remembering how wonderful his partner was. He imagined the evening, the two of them laughing and joking as he worked his fingers into her soft, tan back, which curved around to-

Jaune was never so glad for his five-minute alarm to ring as he and Pyrrha rushed out of the door.

* * *

Pyrrha didn't really know what to think, and that frightened her a _good_ deal. Jaune had been an anxious, nervous wreck the previous day, barely able to sit still in class and visibly freaking out several separate times. He had told her why, and it made complete sense that he'd react the way he did.

Perhaps she had misjudged Weiss. A far more upsetting possibility was that she'd misjudged _Jaune_ , as she wanted to always be able to trust her instincts when it came to her hunting partner.

Weiss was difficult to read sometimes. Sometimes, it seemed there was nothing but layer upon layer of fire and thorns. Other times, it seemed more like a disguise. Celebrities like them often wore facades and masks, as Pyrrha knew all too well, and it was entirely conceivable and, more than that, _arguable_ that Weiss wore her anger as a shield to deal with her environment, and was finding enough solace to finally begin to drop it at Beacon.

The third option, stemming from the previous two, was that she had misjudged how the massage between Weiss and Jaune would go and in what state it would leave either of them.

As she watched Weiss _dance_ across the room against a captured Grimm, her footwork even more impeccable than usual to Port's obvious delight, Pyrrha breathed a sigh and pondered what could make the heiress so light on her feet so as to have improved this much.

(Had she known the true nature of Weiss' massage, it would have made complete sense. She didn't, of course, and even one as confident as her could diminish due to misunderstandings as minor as such.)

It...wasn't disheartening, to see Jaune so perky, so active, so _alive_ in class. He answered Port's questions with brimming excitement, face not even falling for a heartbeat when he got a question wrong, and Port began to match his excitement thusly. No, Pyrrha could never be disheartened or disturbed by her leader in such an obviously good mood.

What threw her off-base in such a way was _why_ he was feeling good. She could think of no event except the massage, as _surely_ Jaune would have told her if something else happened.

...Would he? Hadn't he, after all, forgotten to tell her the first time he gave Yang a massage until the day after, when she prodded his obvious discomfort and distractions? Had he not forgotten to tell her that he was massaging his _crush_ , until she prodded him about it the night before?

What else might he be forgetting to tell her?

She stiffened, gripping her pencil firmly, writing down a short sequence of notes.

No. It didn't do her any favors to think of her partner in that manner. If she doubted him, she doubted her leader. If she doubted her leader, the team dynamic could fall apart when it was most important to stay together.

...But she could doubt herself. Or, at least, doubt her understanding of the dynamic between her and her leader. She liked to believe that Jaune was aware of the tension between them. But how much of that tension might be of her own imagination.

Her grip on the pencil slackened, and she resisted the still-breaking habit to bite her lip.

What if he didn't look at her the way she looked at him? Not in the literal sense- but didn't he always look away, and berate himself, even if it was internal and only visible in the aggravated look on his face?

Pyrrha...wanted more. She liked her partner. She liked him rather a lot, and she could admit that to herself in the confidence and privacy of her mind.

But what if he didn't share that sentiment? What if she said something, only to find out that a spark had lit between Weiss and him, last night? To upset the dynamic like that, to risk it falling apart in such a potentially catastrophic way…

Was it worth surety? Could she risk that and keep a clear conscious?

She didn't know, and _that_ frightened her even more than when she hadn't known what to think.

* * *

Jaune's day had only seemed to get better.

Not only had he slept well, not only had he felt refreshed and recharged, _not only_ had he had an extremely cathartic discussion, but on top of _all of that_ he got to see genuine fruits of his labors. With Yang and Blake, though he hadn't looked as hard as he could have due to his nerves, the results of his massage tended to center around more comfort and relaxation, occasionally visible in their posture. They could be noticed, had he the capacity of thought to look, but it required _looking_.

A combat demonstration was a bit obvious when it came to providing a context by which he could measure his success, but he wouldn't look that particular horse in the mouth.

She was so... _elegant._

He sighed, a hand on his chin, completely oblivious to Pyrrha's mounting tension and Blake's mirthful glances every now and then.

Her movements flowed in ways he'd only had the privilege of seeing a scant few times, she leaned effortlessly to dodge an attack that seemed to miss by a mile, and the flare of her semblances reply was merely the cue for applause to start as the grimm was eviscerated by her blade. Not a single scratch marred her form, and Port was so overjoyed with the display that he, in his usual exuberance, offered Weiss extra credit for a stylish and perfect dispatch.

 _And she said no._

A pang hit his heart, but strangely enough it was not the usual despair of realizing she was way out of her league. Instead, it was the warmth of realizing that, while all of today's show was reliant on Weiss' incredible talent, _he played a part in it_.

At least, he liked to think he did, but it seemed a pretty likely conclusion. It may have been a small part, if she happened to wake up early and well-rested, have a relaxed schedule, and known in advance that she'd been picked for a practical, but it seemed quite unlikely that a massage of some sort would have had _no_ impact on the outcome.

Still, he couldn't help but clap almost as exuberantly as Port. Not to say, of course, that she recieved light applause otherwise - many students enjoyed watching Weiss demonstrate her skill, but he _might_ have clapped a bit harder than normal.

He didn't see Pyrrha's gaze tightening, didn't see Blake's eyes narrow a fraction.

What he _did_ see was Weiss turn, make eye contact with him, and scoff.

But in between one moment and the next, as she was already reacting with the dismissive expression, for an instant so brief he almost believed he imagined it, her eyes seemed to soften. She did not smile at him, like Blake had right after her massage, or wink like Yang had the day after hers. But it was enough.

He was content.

* * *

At lunch, Pyrrha was more conflicted than she'd felt in quite a long time. Her leader was always quick to applaud Weiss after physical tests, and never seemed to be to upset at her dismissive attitudes, but today had been quite exceptional. Not only her performance, but his response. She'd have almost expected him to leap out of his seat like Port did, to give her a standing ovation.

She forked another bite of squash, unable to properly appreciate the taste as she watched Jaune check something on his scroll.

What if…

Did he…?

...Did he not?

She chilled, biting down hard on her lunch. She didn't want to think like that- _didn't want to doubt him_ , but it wasn't as if avoiding the thoughts was _easy_. She desperately wanted confirmation, wanted some kind of catharsis to this question.

Did he...like her?

It seemed so childish to say, or think, like that, but it was the only way Pyrrha could phrase it where it _made sense._

She didn't love him, not romantically. She'd fight and risk her life for him, any day of the week, but...

There was something not-present. Something missing. A piece, or many pieces, of the puzzle between connecting her current feelings to _love_.

But she liked him. They didn't hug often, as Jaune could barely sustain full or even half-body contact with another girl before having a meltdown, but after they returned from a successful training course or when he finally managed to master a new attack, sometimes…

It would be brief, but it would be _warm_ , and while Pyrrha didn't think she was necessarily touch-starved, she hadn't realized until now just how nice it would feel to hug someone her age. Someone she liked.

She'd always imagined, _expected_ on some level that he returned the feelings. That while his crush on Weiss was obvious as the sun on a cloudless, summer noon, he could feel the tension between them. Understand that there was something there, something waiting to connect, waiting to happen.

But…

Did he?

Or had she merely desired it so much that she saw his actions as something more, something different than the meaning he meant to convey? Was she merely superimposing her own desires over his words in a desperate hope that he might also realize how warm their hugs were?

...Should she just-

* * *

"-rrha? Pyrrha!" Jaune exclaimed, risking raising his tone slightly as he jabbed her forehead a little less gentle than usual.

It had never taken him that much poking to prod her out of a distracting thought, and sometimes he'd let her mind run it's course and let her return focus to the conversation organically. The habit itself was sometimes delightful to see, as she'd drift off just enough to relax her features, and look so _peaceful_ he had to wonder if she was normally under a lot of stress. It made him somewhat regret not bringing up the backrubs he'd given his sisters before.

However, seeing her eyebrows come together and her jaw clench wasn't peaceful at all, and though he got a few weird looks from neighboring tables, he was just glad to see her return to awareness.

"...S-sorry." She said, voice subdued, shaking her head to clear her thoughts. He was almost distracted by the swishing of scarlet locks but managed to force himself to focus on the discussion at hand.

"Is...is everything alright?" He asked tentatively. It was _super_ rare for Pyrrha to be off-base in general, for her to be thrown off this much was a little worrying.

For an instant, a single moment, in-between heartbeats, he saw her change her mind. He _saw_ it, in the way her brow came together closer and then relaxed, in how her eyes flicked, her posture straightening as she smiled apologetically.

"I...think so, now. I have a few things to check with Ms. Goodwitch about, and I guess they might be a little more worrying than I thought."

It was a deflection.

He just wondered _why_.

...Still, it wouldn't benefit things now. Any conversation concerning a subject that threw her off-balance enough to make her react like that wasn't something to be discussed at lunch, in public. He'd bring it up later, and see if she still wanted a Massage. It would probably do her some good, if the majority of team RWBY's reactions were to be believed.

He nodded, not believing her, wondering if she in turn perceived that, and they finished lunch with jokes and funny videos on his scroll and silence in all the ways that mattered.

* * *

Pyrrha did end up visiting with Ms. Goodwitch, if only to have not lied to her partner.

Not completely, anyways.

...She couldn't fool herself, much that she wished she could.

Lies by omission were still a deception, even if you could twist your mind into believing it was not a _lie_. She knew the correct answer to his question and spoke in a way such that he would be drawn to a different conclusion, even if he hadn't seemed to believe her at first.

She nodded, barely catching a word of what Ms. Goodwitch was saying, before the blonde teacher stopped talking. Pyrrha refocused on the present situation, catching a level gaze being turned to her, before Goodwitch sighed and pushed up her glasses.

"You've been distracted all day, Ms. Nikos." She said plainly, but not unkindly. It wasn't a reprimand, but Pyrrha still winced. As she made to speak, to apologize, Goodwitch raised a hand to forestall the action.

"I won't pry. But we aren't going to accomplish meaningful work if you drift off like this. Get some rest and work on whatever has been consuming your attention. We'll meet again tomorrow."

The warrior in Pyrrha winced, but all the rest of her was grateful to the stern, but insightful and respectful teacher. She nodded once, wordlessly taking her leave.

After a moment of pause at an intersection of the halls, she quashed an immature temptation, squared her shoulders, and left for the reserved training ground she and Jaune had selected for their independent work today.

She could manage a few hours of work with him, and hopefully make her mind up by then if she still wanted to sit in a room with him, alone, for a long time, feeling his hands-

She shook her head, clearing the intrusive thoughts before they could distract her. It wasn't often, but there _was_ a reason this time, so it didn't annoy her as much.

* * *

Despite his resolution to let the situation lie until after dinner, Jaune knew plainly that their workflow was being impeded by whatever had happened. Partnering with Pyrrha had keyed him in to many of her quirks and traits. He liked to watch people fight, as Blake had found out to his minor embarrassment, and while he wasn't necessarily always keeping track of everything she was doing and comparing it to her actions in the past, he _had_ developed a bit of a sense for his partners state of mind.

It...wasn't terrible? She was off-balance, definitely. Her skill still eclipsed his to a laughable degree, so she wasn't struggling against him, but there were a few moments where he'd slipped into a trapped opening that would have meant nothing but a brutal punishment in response, only to see her dodge away.

As of right now they were both taking a five minute break, drinking water and toweling off sweat.

It bothered him to an almost surprising degree. He didn't like to see Pyrrha like this, and more than once that feeling's intensity eclipsed his worry about what was causing this slump. Pyrrha was his rock, an unshakeable pillar of support in his life ever since he'd been here. She'd never doubted him, never believed that he would fail, and had been there for _every single triumph_ he'd had.

Hell, she was _directly_ responsible for most of those triumphs. He wanted to ask, to beg her to please just _tell him_ what was wrong. The rational part of him knew not to approach the situation, not yet at least. At most, he should wait for her to discuss whatever was on her mind. At least, he should wait for privacy.

He wasn't sure which would come first. He suspected the latter, and the same part of him that hurt when he saw something wrong in his partner's life _ached_ because of that suspicion - because some part of him didn't trust her to be open with him.

Her sword came in as an abrupt signal to the end of their break, ending his thought train's journey down the tracks as he barely managed a parry, before swearing internally as he realized that he also had a meeting with Ms. Goodwitch today and could not accompany Pyrrha to her next destination.

That was the last thought before his world was once more consumed in a torrent of sparks, and the sparring began anew.

* * *

Pyrrha wasn't one to swear, or even to have especially verbal expressions of anger, but the sheer scope of how distracted she'd been during her training today nearly brought her to both. She wanted to bemoan the irrationality of all of it, remembering how many fights she had been in where such distractions would have cost her admiration, pride, and championship victories.

She wanted to, but she couldn't. This was different. She hadn't _had_ anyone back then to inspire such fear in her heart. No one was close enough, near and dear enough, _free_ enough to spend their time with her. She barely _had_ time that wasn't consumed by training, PR and trying to maintain some amount of a family life. At Beacon, she filled her free time with training, but for the first time she was training _someone else_.

She hoped he hadn't caught on to how off-base she was, but it pained her to realize that she truly didn't know if he had. She hadn't been focused enough on him, had barely been aware enough to keep the sparring level and even then, she could barely manage it.

Jaune was a constant in her life, perhaps the first one since her parents and her role as a warrior. He was improving, slowly at first but now the steps were greater, and though he lacked confidence and was still shaky in legitimate - or at least realistic - conflicts, he _was_ getting better. No one knew that better than her.

He hadn't known her beforehand, and while she knew for a fact that he'd looked her up after partnering with her, he didn't have any kind of stigma or associations with that information. It was just more things to talk about in conversation, more ways to make jokes at dinner. Her family had encouraged her ceaselessly to aim higher, and she had with delight at the challenge, but only when she reached the top of what she could achieve at the time did she realize how lonely a life it was.

He still praised her, still adored her feats of skill like so many others, but he did so _at her side_ , not in a sea of people cheering at her most recent victory.

She liked him. It was easy to think now, there was no need to badger around it. No confusion as to what it was. Surely as the sun rose in the east.

Only now, instead of the warmth those thoughts brought, there was little but the fear of his response, of his answer.

'Y-you do? I, a-ah, gosh I...I don't really know what to say!'

…

'S-sorry, Pyrrha. Weiss and I, we…'

Her heart clenched, her gut curdled. She hated this, hated this fear, hated it more than anything else. Surely ignorance would be better, and she _knew_ it was running away to think it but _surely_ it would be better to put this off, to w _ait_ _please wait she didn't want to know_ -

The door opened, and she threw her scroll under a pillow as fast as she could move, heart in her throat and beating harder than ever before.

"Pyrrha?" He asked, his voice laced with unhidden concern, and _why_ was he back so soon she was certain his meeting was scheduled for much _longer_.

Still, her heart _yearned_ to know the truth, even as her gut begged her to run away from it, and-

"What's wrong, Pyrrha?"

Both voices went silent with the realization that _of course_ he'd noticed. She knew his little tics, the meaning of his micro-expressions, his habits, _of course_ he'd see hers.

"I…" She trailed off, realizing in a moment of panic that she had no idea what to say, much less if to deflect or face reality.

"I, I think a massage might do you some good, Pyrrha. You've been...really tense, all day."

The desperate urge to run was gone, but so was the burning need to _know._ Wordlessly, she nodded, feeling the warmth rush through her chest as Jaune didn't ask, didn't push, but merely offered something he felt would help her.

His face brightened as he shut the door behind him.

Just a massage, just his hands on her back, just a way to work tension out of her muscles. Just a way to relax. No questions, if he wouldn't ask.

She could do that.

* * *

Across the hall, Weiss was entrenched in the settings menu of an app on her Scroll. Ruby was seated atop her monstrosity, tongue between her teeth as she dutifully altered her essay according to Weiss's corrections. They were curt, and the heiress had even taken to scratching out a few sentences with her beloved red pen, but there were no notes or comments of disapproval, so Ruby cheered with the knowledge that she was improving.

Across the room, Blake was buried far deeper than usual in what seemed to be a new novel in a series she favored. She hadn't responded to Ruby's greeting upon her return to the room beyond a grunt and a wiggle of her foot, eyes flicking across the page intently. Yang was playing a game on her own scroll, occasionally raising a hand in silent cheer or frowning and muttering as she tapped out of an ad or other attempt to funnel cash into the developers' pockets.

Ruby was glad. It had been a while since her team had all been together for anything other than training, and the atmosphere was warm enough that she could just sit and smile and be with her friends.

* * *

Jaune was...satisfied. Pyrrha had turned around already and tugged her shirt off, and the intrusive, gross thoughts that had plagued him before-

...Was it right to think of it that way? Pyrrha and Weiss had both-

He shook his head, wanting to focus on Pyrrha right now and _definitely not_ running away from thinking about the topic.

She was baring her back to him, and he wasn't being distracted. His only focus was on his concern for her, and his desire to make her smile, and to help her forget, even for a moment, what was plaguing her.

He smiled, a faint, quirked thing, but a smile nonetheless.

He could do this.

* * *

She could _definitely_ do this.

She groaned again, leaning back into his hands with a deep, rich sigh of satisfaction. While she hadn't visited upscale massage parlors like Weiss had, some locations offered free massage work after matches to help her destress. Those had certainly been pleasant, but this was _very_ different than those. He wasn't actively bringing his aura forth, but just the motions of his hands and the sounds left her unable to forget just who was working tension out of her back so delightful. The way his breath hitched, the way his hands worked across her skin, before his palm gently found purchase and _pushed_ -

She let out another deeply satisfied groan, confident that she probably wasn't making sounds anything like Yang had.

...It was getting kinda close, though.

Almost as if he had read her mind (and what a scary yet intriguing thought that was…) he mumbled something that she didn't catch, save for the tell-tale name she had just been thinking about.

"P-Pardon?" She gasped, his thumb having found a particularly tight knot in her back just as she'd opened her mouth.

"Y-you and, um, Yang. You, uh, I dunno, it feels similar? The tension in your upper back, I mean."

She restrained a giggle, not having the presence of mind to note that it was harder than usual to keep such a reaction at bay. This boy.

"Yang and, I-iiiii..." She trailed off, biting her lip and leaning harder into his hands, mumbling the words out in a rush, "We'rebothabittopheavy."

One moment two moment red moment blue-

His hands froze, and she resisted the somewhat mean urge to burst out laughing.

* * *

Her corrections finished, Ruby turned to her textbook and pulled out the crumpled, well-doodled-on sheet of notes from class today. Weiss demanded that she review her notes every night, but had stopped helping her with this once Ruby had seen how tests had started to become easier. It was much harder to forget to do it when Weiss reminded her, but the team all kept their grades open with each other, so Ruby didn't need Weiss' insistence to motivate her that much anymore. She giggled, quickly snapping a picture of a short comic she'd drawn while Port was telling stories - the one time Weiss didn't elbow her in the ribs for doodling. Weiss had even drawn on her notes today, though it was a little angular, but she'd circled the little glyph in happy faces and hearts and cheered quietly when Weiss cracked a tiny, tiny smile.

She hmm'd, trying to figure out who to send the picture to, before shrugging and figuring she'd do that later, after she'd gone over today's lesson again.

* * *

He _definitely could not do this._

He couldn't _actually_ feel his brain stumbling over it's own two feet and sliding through about seven miles of gravel, but he could _imagine_ it felt something like this.

She-

Her and Yang-

His hands twitched against her _bare skin_ as his brain abruptly remembered exactly _what that meant_. Her hair was draped forward off either shoulder, exposing the entirety of her toned back, and her skin was so _soft_ that he could barely keep himself held together. Muscles, trained from a lifestyle of intensive combat, relaxed under his touch as she shuddered and a bead of sweat slipped down her shoulder blades and _oh my god Pyrrha was topless in front of him and that meant-_

 _That meant-_

He wheezed slightly, abruptly aware of what exactly was on the opposite side of her back, memory turning back inexorably towards Blakes-

He stilled, reached to the side, and pinched his arm _hard_.

 _Not right now_. He wouldn't ponder the ethics of it or whether it was right and he _certainly_ wouldn't be distracted when the point of all of this was to help his _partner_.

...At least, he wouldn't be distracted by thoughts of Blake.

His hands finally returned pressure to her back, his breathing shaky as he, after a false start or two as he marveled at the smoothness of her skin that was suddenly _far more noticeable_ , returned to massaging Pyrrha.

She began making those sounds again, and he bit his lip as she leaned into his hands, the warmth of her back all his aching fingers could feel. He frowned slightly, not sparing a single thought to it as aura moved down his arms, warming his fingers and causing them to glow slightly as he returned to his task, certain his face was rapidly growing red as her groans continued to sound more and more of rapturous satisfaction.

He may have been successful in keeping Blake from his mind, but it was impossible to ignore her. Every shudder, every quake, every moan that came from deep in her throat was like a shock to his system - stronger than any caffeine rush he'd ever felt. He was hyper aware of her, the muscles he was massaging, the feeling of skin against his hands and fingers, the warmth of her body, the-

He gulped, his own breathing slightly unsteady as she let out another pleasured sigh, her back arching against his hands as he shut his eyes, desperately locking away the horrible temptation to lean just slightly to the right or left and see what he could-

The only reason he didn't slap himself was because it would interrupt the Massage, and distract Pyrrha.

It definitely wasn't because he wanted to not take his hands off her.

...What a mess, he was.

* * *

Weiss' scroll dinged, and her eye twitched as she opened the messaging app. Ruby saw her shoot Yang a poisonous glare, seeing Yang giggle shamelessly in response, before angrily typing a message of her own. Unseen by Ruby was Blake also glancing at her own scroll, rolling her eyes, and then returning to her book after sending a single emoji back.

* * *

The sentiments, thankfully, didn't last. His embarrassment, while kept in existence by her deep, heavy moans, faded somewhat, and it wasn't long before the quiet began to get somewhat awkward. His hands slowed, unable to find tension to work out, her shoulders drooping low in relaxation. Yang had made a joke, Blake had- _nevermind_ , and Weiss had shared a heart-to-heart, or something, with him. No massage had ever just _ended._

He wondered what would happen here.

As it happened, he didn't need to wait long. Pyrrha, it seemed, had similar thoughts to his own. She reached out, grasping out at her bed before tugging the sheet off, wrapping it around her shoulders before, finally, turning around to look him in the eyes. Her face, he noted somewhere in the back of his mind that wasn't struck with the sudden realization of just how _pretty_ she was, had become quite red.

She wrestled with something for a long time. It seemed apparent that it was whatever had bothered her all day, and some part of him shrunk in fear that whatever had caused her so much distress was related to him.

Did she-

Would she-

"J-Jaune?" She started, wetting her lips and pulling the sheet tighter.

His hands shook, even though his aura was blocking the pain, but with great effort he managed a weak, "Y-yes, Pyrrha?"

"D-do you...like me?"

* * *

For the second time that day, Pyrrha realized that her words had caused Jaune to freeze up.

She wasn't fairing much better.

She had turned before she could think to stop herself, before she could remember to maintain the status quo and not hurt herself, but alone in their room as they were, she knew Jaune wouldn't let it drop if she changed her mind. He would ask, and worry, and as much as it hurt her to face the risk of a heartbreaking reality, she couldn't hurt him with her own fears. She owed her leader, and her friend, that much.

He started breathing again, his eyes wide and mouth agape, not a single hint of blush on his cheeks as he seemed to flounder for a response. He licked his lips, swallowing as his hands started to fidget, and she shut her eyes and waited for the inevitable.

* * *

He couldn't breathe, he couldn't _think_ , because-

 _Because-_

It was like he had taken a step to the right. Or, perhaps, all of Beacon had taken a wide step to the left. Something _snapped_ into place in a way it never had, and suddenly he could barely stand to look at his gorgeous partner's face.

His _partner's_ _face_.

He knew the statistics of how many partners became romantically involved. He knew that it was common for hunter teams to work together, live together, love together and many times die together.

He'd never-

She-

He realized, as though the knowledge had always been there but covered up by thoughts of white and jokes and efforts that had long since been in vein.

 _He realized._

* * *

She peaked through her lashes, eyes half-lidded as she pondered his silence. He wasn't looking at her, his jaw set firmly, and there was something in his eyes she hadn't seen before. Not like this, at least. The firmness that preceded an order, the steadfast look of when he finally knew what his course was, and she prepared for a painful, heart wrenching rejection.

It did not come.

In a moment, in a heartbeat, a piece of a second so short she might have dreamed it up - in the fleeting instants where the world didn't exist, and all that mattered right now was the boy in front of her, one thing moved while reality stood still with bated breath.

His head dipped, and rose.

* * *

He couldn't look at her, he _couldn't_. He was aware now, more than ever, of the sheer magnitude of his blindness.

More than that, he couldn't bear to consider just how _long_ he'd been blind. His focus had been so narrow, so dim, lasered on to Weiss that he hadn't realized how close he was truly growing to Pyrrha, how comfortable he'd become in her presence, how the rare times they'd hug he didn't feel extensively embarrassed or awkward. He'd chalked it up to them being partners, to them being just _friends_. But when faced with her question, when faced with the reality of the situation, with how much he thought about her, worked with her, fought with her, worried for her…

He turned, the cold, curdling feeling of shame twisting in his gut, and saw for perhaps the first time in his life just how Pyrrha looked when she was utterly, completely flabbergasted.

* * *

It wasn't out of mistrust for her partner that she spoke. It wasn't because she doubted him, or believed he would lie to her to preserve her happiness. It was reflex and hope, a small, desperate part of her heart begging for it to be true, to hear it and not just see it in his movements.

"Y-you do?"

He winced, and her heart froze, but then he turned to look her in the eyes and fixed her with a smile that she _knew_ from experience was one of shame, and inward-pointed anger.

"I- Y-yeah…" He paused, firming his expression, squaring his shoulders, and then the pose fell apart as he sagged, unable to hold the bravado. "I...I like you, Pyrrha."

He laughed, a soft, fluttery little thing.

"I didn't realize it until now, but...I like you. I-I...I like you a lot, Pyrrha."

She felt like her heart had stopped, like every single part of her had frozen over and that all it would take is the slightest touch to shatter.

He...he liked her? He returned her feelings?

Her lip trembled, only for a moment, before she swallowed and tried to speak. Failing that, she closed her mouth again, and _felt_ the despair, dread, and unknowing certainty break away as he didn't suddenly laugh, or look away, or declare this to be a joke.

Not that she'd expect him to, but it the parts of her that doubted this reality needed more and more impossible options to explain this, and in failing those, they began to crumble themselves.

In her heart, joy began to soar.

* * *

His heart felt like it was filled with lead, as reality started to bleed back in to his awareness. He liked Weiss, and it wasn't just a teenage crush on a pretty girl - Weiss _appealed_ to him. Her strength, her confidence, her surety and poise…

All of those traits, he found in Pyrrha.

He had told Weiss - _he had told her_ that it brought him joy to see her smile. It was from his affections that he spoke those words! How had he failed to see the reflection of that, _the exact same affection_ he held for Pyrrha?

Making her smile affirmed him. It brought joy and warmth and _life_ to him. He devoted mealtimes and doodles and comments on her notes page to getting her to laugh that genuine laugh.

...He liked Pyrrha.

And he liked Weiss.

...Was that wrong?

He liked Weiss, but he didn't necessarily have high hopes for her returning his affections. At best, yesterday had proved nothing except the fact that she didn't hate him.

But Pyrrha...the implication of her question was obvious. Did he like her? Because…

Because she liked him.

There was dread, and ice, and fear surrounding his heart, but that thought alone punched a deep, hefty crack in the shell.

Pyrrha _liked_ him. She didn't tolerate him, or just laugh at him like a clown, or like him in the manner that she appreciated her friends. She liked him, in ways deeper than that.

The warmth bled through, and though he knew he'd struggle with the thoughts of his affections towards two seperate girls, in this moment it became awful hard to pay attention to that.

"Partners…" He'd started speaking before he realized his lips were moving, and her eyes fixed on him immediately. He didn't know where the words were coming from, or why they were coming at all, but in this moment, as surely as he knew the weight of his blade, he knew that he'd never be able to stop them.

* * *

"Partners often...get together, don't they? R-romantically, I mean."

He turned red as he spoke, and by the heat in her cheeks she knew she was flushing too.

Then she nodded, and his face got redder.

"Y-you" she began, "You have...supported me, in ways no one else has, Jaune." and he had. In ways she'd never needed, but also never knew she _wanted_. People had encouraged her and praised her, but no one had taken the time to sit with her and make her laugh without having intentions that were either unsavory or simply not fantasies she wished to indulge. No one had casually leaned over to doodle a little mustached man blustering in the corner of her notes, or been a student of hers and praised her, not because of her own skill, but because of the effect she was having on their own growth.

She reached out, her fingers grazing his hand before they closed around and, after a moment, he responded with cheeks burning hot, but fingers warm and gentle.

"You...mean a lot to me, Jaune." She whispered, for the world was too quiet now, and anything else seemed as though it would break her eardrums.

His eyes were wet, and for an instant she was struck by a curiosity of whether or not this was the first time he'd ever been told that, this frankly and this meaningfully.

He squeezed, and it was her turn to blush hotter.

* * *

"You...you are my rock, Pyrrha. My foundation, the _sole reason_ for _all_ of my successes." he said, finding it easy to speak the words, his voice calm and unwavering. Sometimes the truth scared him, but this truth was important, and she _had to know_.

"Jaune-"

"No, Pyrrha." He cut her off gently, grasping her hand with both of his, leaning in closer. It mattered to him more than most anything had, recently, that in this moment, his partner understood the sheer _magnitude_ of what she had done.

"Even when we weren't training, even in matters you didn't tutor me on, Pyrrha. You...You give me _confidence._ I'm not...I'm not just learning how to be confident, or pretend, it's _you_ who gives me that. Pyrrha…"

He trailed off, and she repeated his earlier gesture, clasping her other hand against his. Her eyes were wet. He knew his were too.

"You mean _so much_ to me, and I didn't realize the, the depth of those feelings until now, but had you not lifted me up even after learning of my lie…"

He looked her in the eyes, keeping tears back with force of will as he truly faced everything she had done for him.

"Pyrrha, I couldn't have done it without you. _Any_ of it."

She stared at him, eyes shining and hands tight.

There was silence.

And then-

* * *

In a quiet, unobserved room, two teenagers who had spent the majority of their lives alone began to move.

Perhaps they had not been alone physically. Perhaps they had a plethora of siblings to raise them, or a family who supported them. Perhaps they had friends at school or peers in the arena, but one could become friendless and peerless so quickly, given time and circumstances.

Red hair, unbound, shifted as it's owner leaned in.

Blond hair followed suit.

For a moment, as silence held its breath, they paused. Looked into each others eyes. Stared and saw and understand and liked and

And

Apologized.

Blond hair shifted as it's owner leaned back, his face as red as his partner's scarlet locks.

Red hair settled back into place with a twist of a hand as it's owner glanced to the side, unable to look at her partner.

Life marched forward anew.

* * *

Neither of them spoke. They didn't know what to say, didn't know what to think, beyond the simple, reassuring fact that it had been mutual. They had both pulled away, both questioned it, both decided-

"W-we should, should wait." He finally managed to choke out, his stutter returning in full force.

"Y-yes...I, I agree. Perhaps when...when we are, ah, calmer." She managed to respond, her own voice quaking far more than normal.

They both knew that they had proffered sensible suggestions. Excitement from the contact they'd had, both physically, as he had massaged her back and felt her skin, and as she had touched his heart and he hers. As they had told the truth to each other and been astounded by it, and filled with a charge of emotions.

Such decisions were better made with level heads, with an understanding of the reality. To wake up the next day and regret would be disastrous, and such an action should be discussed.

...Both of them, in turn, knew that these things, while true, merely distorted the deeper truth. Cop-outs and evasions, because two people who had been alone for so long, even after admitting how much they adored each other and valued each other, would be afraid to take that next step. Afraid of the commitment, the responsibilities, the fears and potentials and _what-ifs_.

And so, in a silence that was comfortable only in it's lie, they readied for bed.

* * *

Weiss had staunchly ignored her scroll for some time now. However, the instant Ruby realized she'd forgotten her own scroll in her locker, she'd bolted to go find it. Unfortunately, Yang was _much_ harder to ignore when she was speaking instead of typing.

"Weeeiiissss" the blonde called, leaning over her bed rather precariously only to snicker as Weiss visibly rolled her eyes and clenched her pen tighter, going over her own notes (for how hypocritical would it be to demand as much from Ruby and not return it in kind?)

"I'm working, Yang." the heiress bit out through clenched teeth, restraining a snarl as Yang laughed again.

"Working working _wooorrkiiingg_ " Yang drawled, "You've been _working_ for an awful long time now, Snow Queen - isn't it time for a break?"

Weiss clenched her teeth harder, refusing to be caught up in this discussion as she knew _exactly_ where it would go. "I will take a break _when I feel it is time for one, Yang._ " She snapped in response, knowing all the while that the battle would be hopeless.

"And how again did you react when Ruby said exactly that to you last week, Weiss?" Blake asked dryly, and Weiss just about snapped her pen.

She grit her teeth.

Contemplated this potential course of action.

…

And threw caution to the wind in favor of a what-if that was _far_ too appetizing to pass up.

She turned smoothly, fixing Blake with an even stare and arching a single eyebrow in the 'Schnee Look' that she'd learned within a few days of public galas. Yang was snickering as she tapped on her scroll, still leaned at a ridiculous angle, obviously ready for the verbal showdown.

Fine.

"I imagine," She began cooly, indifferently, as if she were discussing stock prices or the weather or a minor event that had occured when shopping last week, "That I looked about as shocked as Jaune did when you _forgot you were half undressed, Blake._ "

Weiss paused, commiting the look of utter, complete shock on Blake's face to her memory, resolving to never forget it until the day she died. When she was forced to contact her father, or interact with Whitley, or anything as unsavory as unwanted familial conversations, she would remember the undisguised _astonishment_ as she, for the first time, fired back the kind of barb only Yang would have made.

The crash of Yang falling from her bed, having whirled around to stare gobsmacked at Weiss, was only icing on the cake.

That, it seemed, was the trigger for the conversation to end, as Yang it seemed was too shocked to even go into her usual bout of hysterics. Weiss was almost worried, but with an imperious sniff she turned back around and continued to review her notes, resolving to think about it tomorrow.

* * *

Jaune winced, rubbing his aching hands under the cold water. Deactivating his aura had been necessary, as he certainly couldn't keep the flow up all night, but it didn't change how confusing it was for his hands to still _burn_ when the aura had fled. Shouldn't it be healing his aches?

He wanted to ask Pyrrha about it, but he wanted _far less_ to address his hand pains after the conversation they had just had, and the massage he'd just given her. He didn't imagine Pyrrha would feel particularly good if he just finished massaging her and then began to gripe and groan about how badly his hands hurt, even if they had-

He paused, pinching his arm for the second time - a fruitless gesture, given how much his hands hurt at the moment.

Yup. Still reality. Still the same world where he'd just-

He'd _just_ -

He tried not to scream as it once more sunk in that he'd confessed to liking Pyrrha, _after she'd confessed to liking him_. Not only that, but the _things_ she had said…

He supported her, he helped her, he brought warmth to her in ways she'd never had...It was exactly what he thought of her, and this _entire time_ …

He'd been that for her?

The idea that a girl, especially one as strong and talented and pretty as Pyrrha, would hold even the _slightest_ affections for him, would find _that much value_ in his company, so conflicted with his outlook on life that the only reason he didn't doubt her was because he trusted her _too much_ to doubt the validity of her words.

...It still didn't make it any less surreal.

And then there was that almost kiss…

He shook his head, firmly shelving those thoughts (or attempting to), for tomorrow. He needed sleep, badly, but he didn't expect it to come that easily.

He was right, but for the wrong reasons.

Unlike after Yang, and Blake, he wasn't up for ages remembering how it felt to have his hands on their bodies, or imagining what they looked like from the front side. Such gross thoughts weren't present tonight. Instead, his mind was consumed in the growing, manageable but _very_ noticeable ache in his hands. It did not fade, not until he'd tossed and turned and bit his lip only a few times, before he finally managed to drift away into an uncomfortable, unrestful sleep.

* * *

Pyrrha shifted in bed, across the room from her partner.

She didn't doubt him. Not then, not now. But the reality that she had actually said it, said what was on her heart, and he had responded in kind...

He returned her affections. He called her his foundation - his _rock_. It was by her that he was supported, by her he stood.

He called her exactly what she felt her was, to her. He supported her, lifted her up, helped her when she needed it and asked her when she didn't want to show it.

She pulled the covers tighter, closer to her chest, touching her lips forlornly. It may have been true, what they'd said, but it didn't make her regret any less.

...Sleep didn't come easy for her, that night. When it did, her dreams were plagued by hazy visions of yellow hair and pink lips, and a burning desire for something more.

* * *

"...Guys? What happened?"

"W-weiss, she _made a joke, Ruby._ "

"...Weiss always makes jokes though, Yang."

"No, she made a joke _like me_."

"...What does that mean?"

"Shut up and get in bed, Dunce. We have training tomorrow."

"Right!"

* * *

 **Well.**

 **Howdy.**

 **It's me, ya boy.**

 **Here a whole 350~ days early, somehow.**

 **Hopefully this is the start of something beautiful.**

 **As always, beta'd by my dear darling and surrogate big-sister Akardos, whoms't is my main bitch'th and I love her forever.**

 **Also a sincere thanks to SpookyNoodle, Mike the Remnant Paladin, and MRK_50 for their reading over this chapter before it went live.**

 **As always, leave a review with suggestions, notes of typo's or clunky sentences, or general positive thoughts. Visit my tumblr at Stromael-Writes and send me an ask or just ask how my day is going!**

 **To address the elephant in the room - I do not know if i'll be on a bi-weekly schedule of updates now. I'm trying to write a minimum of 500 words a day, and I need about 733 a day to hit a mark of 10,000 word chapters every two weeks. I'm not necessarily aiming for that all the time, but my chapter skeletons have been getting longer and longer.**

 **Thanks for reading, and as always-**

 **Cheers y'all,**

 **Stromael.**


	5. Red Like Roses

Yesterday, the day of Weiss' impending massage, her scroll beeped while she was going over Ruby's essay.

* * *

 _Yang Xiao Long has added Blake Belladonna and Weiss Schnee to the group chat!_

Weiss Schnee: What is this.

 _Yang Xiao Long has changed their name to: dont ask me xiao long_

Blake Belladonna: Yang.

 _dont ask me xiao long has changed Blake Belladonna's name to: check meowt_

check meowt: _Why_.

 _dont ask me xiao long has changed Weiss Schnee's name to: snow thanks_

snow thanks: I hate you.

 _dont ask me xiao long has locked check meowt's name!_

 _dont ask me xiao long has locked snow thanks' name!_

snow thanks: _I despise you._

don't ask me xiao long: lmao

check meowt: Why didn't you add Ruby, Yang?

dont ask me xiao long: take a wild guess girly

snow thanks: How do I leave.

dont ask me xiao long: you cant youre trapped here forever

snow thanks: _I am trying to work, Yang._

dont ask me xiao long: so whos up after weiss btw

* * *

Weiss scowled, shoving her scroll on to her bed and returning to her work.

The next day, while Ruby was doing her corrections and, unbeknownst to them, Pyrrha was being massaged, Weiss got a notification from the same group chat.

* * *

dont ask me xiao long: ok no but srsly whos getting those hands all over their bodys next since clearly none of us said anything about it today

check meowt: ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

dont ask me xiao long: how the heck did u type that so fast

check meowt: ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

dont ask me xiao long: blake pls

* * *

Ruby, eventually, did take notice of the back and forth messaging. Weiss would type something on her scroll and a few moments later Yang and Blake would check theirs and do the same. Then Blake would type, and it would be Weiss and Yang.

It took her a bit to notice the pattern, but it soon became apparent once she _had_ that a conversation was going on without her.

She didn't get to sleep very easily that night.

* * *

Jaune, conversely, woke up quite well rested. That was half the problem. Without the lovely, terrible grogginess of a sudden wake his mind was clear and unfogged. He _remembered._

By the color of Pyrrha's face, so did she.

Even though specific thoughts weren't necessarily passing through Jaune's head, he still felt the familiar, distracting sense of almost-disbelief. He'd already been surprised that yesterday had happened _when it happened, yesterday_ , but as he slid into his pants and buttoned his shirt up, wincing at the now familiar ache in his hands, he still felt as though he ought to be…

He didn't know. Not quite distracted, but in the same zone? Something felt like it _ought_ to be off, but he couldn't decide if anything actually felt that way.

Neither of them spoke as they left well in advance of Jaune's patented Emergency Five-Minute Alarm.

Neither of them knew if, when Ren and Nora returned tomorrow, the tension would be gone or even worse.

The probable causes for both options frightened them equally. Either they didn't address it, and allowed it to get worse, or they _did_ and…

Jaune gulped, holding the door for his stiffly-moving partner, before following her into Port's familiar classroom.

Both terrifying options.

* * *

dont ask me xiao long: wait did he even massage anyone yesterday

check meowt: Yang.

snow thanks: _We are in class, Xiao-Long._

dont ask me xiao long: oooh breaking out the last names schnee?

check meowt: Yang I will take your scroll.

check meowt: Don't think I won't.

* * *

Neither Jaune or Pyrrha picked up on the ongoing byplay across the room.

Yang, Blake and Weiss, however, were _thoroughly_ invested.

As Port launched into his story of the day, which Weiss had (disbelievingly) noted he actually blocked time for in his schedule, Yang leaned over to her partners.

"Blondie and Pyrrha look real uncomfortable," she whispered, to which Weiss sighed and Blake rolled her eyes, but both looked nonetheless.

Weiss blinked. Blake cocked an eyebrow.

"Who would have seen _that_ coming?" Yang muttered, before waving Ruby off as she perked up.

"Well," Blake began, just as quietly, and Yang snickered as Weiss also rolled her eyes at the continuation of the discussion, "That tension had to hit critical mass sometime, right?"

"Why are we discussing this?" Weiss whispered bluntly, and Yang laughed as she shrugged and turned back to her paper, reaching over and adding a mustache to a circle Ruby had drawn around an important term.

"Probably is good to figure out if we need to add a fourth person to our rotation." Yang whispered back, and Weiss scowled and abruptly turned back to her own paper in response.

Yang grinned.

* * *

The day was moving torturously slow for Jaune, and that was helped in no part by how hypersensitive he'd become to his partner's presence. Every accidental brush of the elbow, every time he'd see a flash of scarlet in his eye, every time she'd adjust her hair or jacket, the movement was magnetic to his gaze and it was a constant battle to focus back on Port.

He'd already lost most of those battles, naturally. It _certainly_ didn't help that, amongst other things, when he'd glance at her as she adjusted her jacket or shirt, he'd remember those _words_.

' _Yang and I-'_

He somehow didn't flush, but still wanted to let out a tiny scream. Now that she'd said it he _couldn't stop thinking about it_. He'd seen Blake's...yeah, but the presence of the thoughts meant that every time he remembered them, he'd have to resist the urge to _not only_ glance at his partner, but also across the room at Yang.

It didn't help that he was spending more than a little time trying to parse how he felt about Pyrrha's reassurances and Weiss' almost-reassurance, when it came to his gaze. It was obviously wrong to look, and he knew they'd agree with the sentiment, but…

 _Was_ it okay for him to _think_ about looking? As far as he was concerned, no, it wasn't. He'd been raised with seven sisters, most of them older, and even from a young age while playing he remembered conversations about the importance of respecting boundaries.

Of course, sometimes those conversations were angry rants about specific, disrespectful people, but he gathered the point all the same. His mother _implored_ him to be confident, to hold his head high, and to earn the respect he desired. How could he do so if he even _entertained_ gross thoughts like that?

...That was what he thought, _had_ thought for so long - reinforced by his mother's words. He had to earn respect, and he had to be confident. He couldn't do that if he was anything like the men he heard his sisters talk about with disdain.

Pyrrha said the thoughts were understandable, not that they were okay. But she had not reprimanded him, or even looked perturbed - she had _smiled_ as she spoke. Weiss had begun to imply things he imagined followed the same trend, _but_ -

"Jaune! What type of Grimm is this, my boy?"

Jaune started, his head snapping up to look at the screen. A strange amalgamation of limbs and bone was displayed, and he fumbled for his notes for a moment before squinting, certain he'd have remembered something like that in the reading, and tentatively began to speak. "I, uh, I don't-"

"Quite right!" Port cried out, before Jaune could get another word out. "This is one of many attempts by artists, with or without malicious intent, to imagine new and unusual species of Grimm!"

Jaune blinked, trying to remember where his thoughts had been, as Port launched into the second half of his storytelling block for the class.

Absentmindedly, Jaune rubbed his aching hands and winced.

* * *

"Hey, Jaune!"

Blake watched her partner address the blond, setting her tray down. Ruby had run off to get dessert with Weiss' stern warning to not return with anymore than one portion still carrying in the air before her leader was gone in a flurry of petals.

Blake knew exactly what question was going to come, and smothered a snort of amusement as Weiss tried and failed to look as though she was ignoring it all.

"U-uh, y-yes, Yang?" the boy responded, voice trembling as Pyrrha looked upwards at Yang with noticeably stiff posture.

"You massage Pyrrha last night?"

Blake _barely_ managed to suppress a snicker as both of them flushed as red as Pyrrha's hair, instantly. The tension in their room last night must have been _intense_. Still, Blake wouldn't turn down another massage from Jaune given how relaxing the last one had been, so where this conversation and it's subsequent ones went was pretty important.

Well, for one value of _important_ , maybe.

* * *

Weiss resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Why Yang felt the need to push this so hard was beyond her, especially in a public forum. She glanced up from her scroll, watching Pyrrha and Jaune utterly fail at keeping level heads and expressions. Jaune stammered something indistinct to Yang, who was making no attempt to hide her grin.

She scoffed, turning back to her scroll. If she or _anyone_ wanted another massage, they all could contact Jaune via his scroll. It was pointless to make a scene like this, especially at a meal.

"U-Uh, y-yeah, I d-did…" Jaune finally managed to stammer out as Weiss scrolled through her newsfeed, scoffing at the deluge of tabloids that had cropped up recently.

'Predictions and early betting pools for the upcoming Vytal Festival tournament opening now!'

'Top five celeb gossip stories of the week!'

'Tired of a small chest? Get your man - or woman - to give 'em a rub-'

Weiss rolled her eyes, blocking all of their posts from getting on to her feed. She allowed a select few tabloids, either ones with humorous headlines or ones that actually could prove damaging to reputations. Small ones like these trashy gossip fountains were wastes of space, as far as she was concerned.

"I'd ask how it went, but I'm not a sadist" Yang said, her grin fixed in place, Jaune and Pyrrha going even redder.

Weiss sighed, continuing to scroll through her feed. She continued to listen to the conversation, but only so she could reign in her idiot teammate, if need be.

* * *

Yang almost, _almost_ felt bad, watching Jaune and Pyrrha flounder. That being said, she was very intentional about making sure they had picked a spot distant of others. Like she had just told them, she _wasn't_ a sadist. But broaching the topic here, in public, meant it was impossible for anyone at the group to try and get out of the conversation.

If, and she used the term carefully, _if_ Jaune-Massages became an actual thing, everyone who would potentially be involved needed to discuss it. Probably not now, but eventually - and wasn't that a weird thought? That they'd happen at all, consistently. It wasn't as if the Massage was life changing, or rocked her world, but it was a basically free source of what seemed to be guaranteed relaxation, especially if repeat performances resulted in the same freedom from back pains. She'd sat through a Peach class with no problems the day after, and that _alone_ had made her consider dropping a few hints about another one.

Still, something had obviously happened between him and Pyrrha. That would be obvious to- well, probably not obvious to Ruby, but anyone _else_ with half a brain cell that could process signs of romantic tension could see that either the tension had grown, or it had been brought out into the open. Pyrrha wouldn't be left out of any kind of future massages, but if that tension grew-

"Why, ah, why do you ask, Yang?" Pyrrha said, her voice lacking in any kind of stutter but her cheeks quite pink.

"Well," Yang began with no hesitation, shelving her thoughts for later, "by my count Jaune has given massages to all us four now, so I think-"

"Massages? Like back rubs? Is that you guys were talking about without me?" Came Ruby's distinctly, mildly passive-aggressive voice.

Yang froze. Blake blinked. Weiss' hand met her forehead.

Shit.

* * *

Jaune had thought this day couldn't get any more awkward.

Then Ruby spoke, and he was proven _completely_ wrong.

As if being unable to even whisper a joke to Pyrrha was bad enough. As if being unable to even look in the direction of Yang, Blake and Weiss was bad enough. _As if_ the unceasing pain in his hands was bad enough - now _Ruby_ had spoken and the inevitable prospect of what that might mean made him want to curl up in a ball and die.

Well. Maybe not die. But just curl up and ignore everything for a long time.

This _entire situation_ had already spiralled out of control in a direction that was as ludicrous as it was, at times…

Well. He could admit in the privacy and comfort of his own mind, that he enjoyed massaging them. It felt good to help people, and it felt good to…

He turned away from that thought, knowing it was a cop-out and that he was running from the problem. He still...he wasn't ready to think about that. Not yet.

Still, this situation was going somewhere, and he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to face that direction. At the same time, he had no good reason to stop it either. He was _helping_ , on one level or another. So long as he could, so long as his skills could bring them relaxation and comfort…

He couldn't stop. He _couldn't_. It just...didn't work. Not like that.

The silence had become awkward enough when Ruby had spoken. Now, the turmoil in his head was much worse.

* * *

Pyrrha watched, thanking and cursing Ruby's appearance. It gave her time to try and calm her breathing, time to still her racing heart, but it also assured that this mess would get more and more complicated now.

"I, ah...yeah, lil' sis. Blondie gave a bunch of us backrubs recently." Yang conceded, almost sounding guilty. That didn't make the _most_ sense to Pyrrha, but she didn't exactly have any siblings so it was hard to relate to the evident dynamic between the two.

"Just backrubs? Jeez, Yang, I was worried you were hiding something big from me!" Ruby pouted, leaning to wave at Jaune, who managed to reciprocate the gesture.

Yang sobered slightly, looking at Ruby somewhat apologetically. "Sorry, sis, I- _we_ didn't mean to worry you."

Silence reigned for a few moments, rapidly thickening into an awkward, tense, nonverbal standoff as everyone waiting for someone else to say. Finally, Ruby spoke again.

"How, ah, how are they? The backrubs."

Pyrrha winced, having expected that. Yang floundered for a moment, before Weiss sighed aggressively and set her scroll down.

"Jaune's massages are fine." She said tersely, much to the surprise of basically _everyone_.

"I- wh- Weiss-" Jaune stammered weakly, eyes wide and fixed on the heiress as she rolled her eyes again. Some little corner of Pyrrha's mind hysterically wondered how they hadn't rolled right out of her skull yet.

"Honestly. You all are taking this _way_ too seriously." She said with a distinctive sniff, picking her scroll back up.

Silence reigned again for a moment, before Yang let out a laugh and rubbed the back of her head, shaking off her disbelief.

"Man, who'd've thought Weiss would cut the tension like that?" She wondered allowed, causing a few giggles as Weiss glared but made no comment.

"Weeeell," Ruby began, glancing back at Jaune, "Can I have one, Jaune?"

Jaune froze like a deer caught in headlights, his eyes immediately flicking not to Pyrrha, which...made her feel something, but instead to Yang. Yang was already looking at him, seeming to have expected the slightly-panicked gaze, before giving a tiny nod.

His shoulders sagged, and Pyrrha didn't know what to think of that either as he managed to say, "Uh, y-yeah, that should be fine, Ruby. T-tonight?"

Ruby nodded happily, either oblivious or uncaring of the tension in the room, setting her plate of only two cookies (much to Weiss' minute approval) down.

Weiss impassively flicked through apps, Blake methodically cut up her grilled fish, Yang ate about as casually as ever, and Pyrrha pondered it all as she finished her lunch.

Jaune, of course, fumbled with every bite, eyes occasionally flicking to a completely oblivious Ruby, lost in cookie-land.

* * *

In class, a blond leaned over to his redheaded partner. The action was stunted, he seemed to hesitate more than once, but finally he reached out and sketched something on her paper.

Her head turned, watching his pencil move, and before he was even done her shoulders were shaking with mirth.

It wasn't much, but it was a start.

* * *

The little Glynda, courtesy of Jaune's pleasantly adorable art skills, glared up at Pyrrha as she dutifully copied notes down.

It was a start. A small one, yes, but a start nonetheless, and that was good enough. As she leaned over to sketch her own, the communication block from naught five minutes ago seemed a little less oppressive in her mind. Not silly - no, never silly. It made complete sense, and it still made sense, but now it was smaller, a little more fragile. Unable to convince her quite as thoroughly that something would go terribly wrong if she tried to broach the topic of _anything_ with her partner.

She watched him stifle giggles and her heart soared. She knew they'd have to address the topic - something was going to happen, whether they wanted it to or not. It would be best if they wanted it, she knew, and much as she wasn't one to put off a hard conversation or encounter, this one…

It didn't feel right, anymore. Jaune's first friend at Beacon, before Pyrrha, had asked for a massage. To fill this day with discussions of romance, connections, and what might become of the bond between them just felt _wrong_ , now.

Sure, that irked her some. But not much. She'd get over it, and they'd talk, and then they'd actually-

She shivered, shaking her head slightly as Jaune finished a final doodle on her own paper, a little Oobleck spilling coffee on Port. She giggled again, gently ribbing him with her elbow and gesturing to the now speaking Glynda, and life continued as it should.

* * *

Jaune finished his final drawing, knowing Ms. Goodwitch was about to begin speaking, and returned to his own page of notes with a flourish. A little Ozpin watched over him, giving a vague but encouraging smile, and Jaune tried to use that encouragement to hide the tremor in his hands. At some point it had become a thing not to mention, probably once he had massaged Pyrrha. It just...didn't feel right to bring it up, anymore. He didn't want to worry her, not when he was helping.

Still, it wasn't the only thing on his mind.

The drawing seemed to finally cut through some of the tension, but he didn't expect it to open conversation as fully as it probably should be. The prospect of what had almost happened was incredible, but…

It frightened him, and he couldn't question that. Surely as the moon was fragmented, he knew his own fear. What it would mean, to continue where'd they'd broken off yesterday. What would happen next, and what _that_ would mean. It was stupid to imagine that his current massaging situation would spiral out of control into some nebulous _more_ , but the thought would not flee his mind, and what it would _mean_ -

He sighed, knowing he was thinking in circles at this point. What was most important right now was today, and where today would go. Massaging Ruby…

Didn't scare him, not really. Not like _all_ of the others had.

Well. Not as much, at least.

Ruby was...different. Part of that was her age, part of that was her status as a leader. A much _larger_ part of that was that Ruby had been the first person he'd ever met at Beacon, his first friend. He liked Weiss and, as he discovered rather abruptly, he liked Pyrrha a lot. Ruby, however, didn't leave him as shivery and scarlet-faced as the others did.

...Then again, though, he'd thought Pyrrha's massage would be fine until he'd actually pressed his hands against her toned, smooth-

Pyrrha, with excellent timing, gently poked his ribs with her elbow, and he turned just in time to see Ms. Goodwitch's eyes pass over him.

Her classes were always interesting, if a little strict, so he found it hard to focus on anything except his fingers for the next hour. He tried to remember to make a reminder on his scroll to head to Beacon Medical, but as with every time he tried to remember that, he forgot.

* * *

Yang was just packing her things when Jaune, in the corner of her eye, visibly perked up and started heading her way. She was a little surprised that he was coming over, though it was easy to guess the general gist of the impending conversation. She didn't know, however, if the fact that he was approaching at all or approaching so soon was what surprised her. Both of them said different things about him, but mostly positive.

Something in her shifted, neither relief nor the expectation of anger. Something adjacent to the two.

When he spoke, she realized what it was.

"Y-Yang, about tonight-" He started, the rest of his sentence falling into place. She could practically hear him stammer out the reassurance, undercut with a mild fear.

It would be lying to say that saddened her, since it was totally understandable that he'd want to clarify to an older sister that he wouldn't try anything with the younger, but at the same time it implied something in a very different direction. Something about the way he viewed himself, which she..hadn't quite gathered already, but moreso got an impression from what she'd seen that, if you squinted and tilted your head, could mean something.

"Jaune." She cut in without preamble, seeing his breath catch and his gaze focus on her properly. His eyes held a lot of scattered emotions, despite being the same blue as ever.

She smiled, kindly and unteasingly.

"I'm not worried. I trust you."

His composure, for a single moment, fractured. His eyes widened and his jaw slackened, staring dumbly at her as her words rang in his mind properly.

She continued to speak, lifting her arm to gently pat his shoulder. "You aren't that kind of person. I appreciate that you wanted to make sure to let me know, but I didn't really need it."

He floundered for a moment, and her smile finally turned into a proper grin.

"If you _were_ that kind of person, I think Blake woulda noticed, huh?" She sang out, giggling as his face instantly turned red. She let go of his shoulder, gently bumping it with her own as she walked past. "Seriously, though, it's alright. Don't worry."

She was about to continue walking to their group training hour, but something caught her eye. Jaune's eyes looked...wet?

That threw her for a loop. Was what she said really that impactful? It was just honesty, as far as she was concerned.

She continued walking, her pace slowed a bit now. It begged another question about how Jaune viewed himself - or didn't.

Did he get much positive reinforcement? She knew Pyrrha spent a great deal of time lifting up - that much was obvious from their interactions, but they'd barely known each other compared to the rest of Jaune's life. What kind of life might he have had, to bring tears to his eyes just because someone said they trusted him to do _the right thing_?

She pursed her lips, but continued walking. A conversation for later, perhaps.

* * *

Jaune processed the conversation as best he could while preparing for group training. RWBY and JNPR always reserved the same room so they could practice together. He knew that Pyrrha had at the very least made RWBY aware that he was playing catchup (not that it wasn't obvious) as he didn't receive much criticism at all to start with, though it would be well deserved. Weiss had occasionally made a snide comment, but otherwise no one seemed to pay too much attention to him.

That seemed to have changed recently, though, as comments that were constructively critical of his performances had started cropping up lately. He appreciated that, once he internalized the mild sting that was to be expected of commentary concerning his fighting style or, rather, lack thereof.

Still, it had never ceased being nerve-wracking to be practicing and sparring in front of RWBY. Today would arguably be worse, though, given the tension between Pyrrha and himself, _and_ the pain in his hands. He rubbed them again, swearing lightly under his breath for forgetting to go to the nurse. That'd bite him one way or another. He knew at this point that constantly using his aura to mitigate the pain didn't seem to be solving the issue, but he had absolutely no desire to cause a delay in their training schedule, so with a shiver he allowed the familiar warmth to wash through the digits and wipe the pain away.

The difference was _heavenly,_ and that concerned Jaune rather a lot as he realized just how much pain his hands had been in.

He wasn't up first, which gave him some extra time to think about what Yang said. Ruby and Weiss were squaring off, which was always a fun match to watch, but it usually followed a familiar pattern. He still was a little scared to point that out.

The things Yang had said...He was a little embarrassed about how he'd reacted, and he hoped quite desperately that she hadn't seen his expression or how choked up he'd become. Granted, it made him _very_ happy that she had those opinions of him - he did make consistent efforts to not infringe upon the privacy of his friends in any way. But the fact that she, _Yang_ , said it so openly, honestly, and _kindly_ to him…

Scythe met rapier as Ruby went on the offensive, only to tumble forward as Weiss completed her feint.

Jaune had never seen overtly, exclusively negative qualities in Yang. He'd never looked, but they'd never presented themselves either. Yet, for her to so blatantly reassure him that she knew - not that she thought, she _knew_ he was a good person who wouldn't try anything…

It felt like a satisfactory, emotional conclusion to a lot of efforts he'd consistently been working towards. That's how he _wanted_ to be seen. He wanted respect, yes, but for someone to lay out in exact terms _precisely_ the image of the man he tried to be in every moment…

It made him a little emotional. She _saw_.

Another crash of metal as Ruby attempted her own feint. It wasn't successful, but it clearly surprised Weiss enough to give Ruby a chance.

He swallowed again, stretching out his stiff fingers. The action would have him gritting his teeth normally, trying to suppress winces. He really needed to get his hands checked on, but he'd left his scroll in his bag, which was in his locker, so he couldn't set a reminder.

Besides, Weiss had Ruby at swordpoint. It was his turn.

He inhaled, holding the air in his lungs for as long as he dared, finally letting the breath go and shaking some fear out of his muscles. Time to go.

* * *

Weiss didn't try and hide her exhaustion. That habit had been crushed by necessity months ago. It was hard for Ruby to see massive improvement without her instructor on-site to provide Scythe-specific training, but she was showing growth against other combat styles. That being said: Weiss, while not a pushover by any means, knew she had a lot of growing left to do as well. Professors Port and Oobleck had once given a demonstration of a licensed, experienced Hunter's duel, and she'd stopped doubting their capabilities the first time their weapons had collided. She knew the height of the ceiling above her, and that only pushed her faster to fly higher.

Jaune's sword collided with Miló, signaling the start of the match. She turned her eye to it, watching the two combatants struggle for a moment before disengaging.

Jaune had improved. She'd acknowledged it before and she acknowledged it here - it'd be lying to pretend otherwise. When they'd started these joint training sessions he'd been laughable, but Pyrrha had explained in private that he had been woefully underprepared, having received minimal familial training before coming to Beacon. Weiss wasn't inclined to try and unpack that, but since then his growth rate had been quick. Then again, he was also training with one of the most experienced fighters in their year on a daily basis. He'd be depressingly incompetent if that couldn't cause leaps of improvement in him.

Jaune rolled back, his shield snapping open edge-forward to parry Miló. That had been a new trick to see last time, and he'd gotten a decent hit in against Pyrrha because of her surprise - she'd still pinned him to the ground with a hand to his back, of course. This time, she anticipated it, and he got a chest of Akoúo̱ as punishment for the same trick-

Weiss blinked as Jaune caught Akoúo̱ with a glowing white hand, having already folded his shield again, wrenching her towards him as his sword came up to her unprotected left. In a display of dexterity that left Weiss impressed, but wincing, Pyrrha bent backwards at a painfully sharp angle, using Jaune's grip on her shield to hold her steady, before slamming her right leg against his unprotected ribs. Jaune took the blow, leaping away after instead of with, and Weiss made a mental note to comment on that.

Leagues better than his start indeed, and a high ceiling above.

She snorted, struck by a sudden sense of looking down on the situation from above and realizing how cliche some of it seemed. The inept beginner training with the master and being judged by the skilled peers, except the beginner also liked one of the peers and, evidently…

Weiss shifted her weight, thinking back to their lunch and class before it. It _was_ painfully obvious that something had happened, though she knew not what. If it meant he stopped those stupid jokes then she didn't really care.

...But damn it all, she was _still_ light on her feet, and if there were some romantic tensions that might make it much harder to get a massage again.

She scowled, turning back to the fight, opting to shelve that thought for a later time. Much later, preferably.

* * *

Jaune's feet skidded against the floor as his sword swept up again, grinding against Miló while Pyrrha pressed relentlessly, giving him neither time nor chance to regain his breath.

Blake approved of that. She had decent confidence that she was one of the few people in the room save for Pyrrha and maybe Yang who had experienced a more genuine degree of combat against live, unpredictable opponents. Combat against people that _wasn't_ training. She'd been kept from the worst of it, usually, but no one gave you time to breathe unless they were a monologuing idiot like Roman. You either kept up with the rush or were swept under and defeated. That was a good habit to instill early, and in some ways Jaune benefited from his lack of training earlier in life by getting some of the _best_ training possible at the place where incorporating and internalizing that training meant _everything,_ not just parental disappointment.

His shield fake-out earlier had been good enough, but Pyrrha was too experienced to be caught unawares by that - using the exact same maneuver as last time had probably just queued her into the fact that something different was coming; Jaune was inexperienced, but hardly an idiot. A lack of education was not indicative of a lack of sense, common or otherwise. It just made it more likely - in this scenario what he lacked was experience, and it showed.

Pyrrha disengaged, flipping Miló into it's rifle form. For training they loaded special cartridges that artificially lowered the scroll's aura reading depending on location and impact, as live shots were too dangerous even with aura protection. Another amenity she very much appreciated and wished she'd had during her own 'training'-

Blake shook her head, steering her mind back to the present. Jaune's aura flicked again as he brought his shield up, but still moved, making his feet harder to hit. Blake had to wonder how quickly Pyrrha had forced that habit into his mind.

As far as she aware, they trained every night that neither was occupied. Lately they hadn't had the chance to, given the massages, and Blake found herself curious what the future might look like. Jaune had a valuable skill that could benefit them all, but would he be willing to give up the amount of time necessary to keep things fair?

...The answer seemed a bit self evident, given some of his personality traits.

She watched him trigger the trap, Pyrrha lunging forward with speed that had nothing to do with pulling on her own armor, hurling Akoúo̱ and preparing to throw Miló and end the match-

Jaune, to Blake's surprise, executed a shockingly similar (albeit flawed) maneuver to the one Pyrrha had pulled off just earlier, half-bending-half-falling backwards and letting Akoúo̱ fly over him. He caught himself on a blazing hand and abruptly pushed to the right, coming up on a knee and bringing his shield up just in time to catch Miló on it and not his chest.

Blake could tell that Pyrrha had given him that, in two seperate ways. They'd agreed that Pyrrha could far too rapidly end fights if she used her semblance as efficiently as possible, so unless requested she abstained, but even still she had refrained from capitalizing on his open guard while he was maneuvering back to his knee. Blake frowned, knowing she'd have taken that shot in an instant had she been facing him. He could nurse his bruised feelings by doing better, next time.

They both disengaged, breathing for a moment before leaping back into the fray.

* * *

She could see how tired Jaune was getting, though to his credit Pyrrha was a little winded as well. His movements, while not as sloppy as they had been in the past, were definitely starting to drag and Pyrrha was punishing him for that. It didn't help that she'd recovered Akoúo̱ by this point, cutting off his attacks before he could even try and turn the tide.

Yang crossed her arms, leaning her weight on to one leg as she watched Pyrrha put him on the defensive again. Miló moved even faster than before, whipping against sword and shield and limb when Jaune was too slow to catch it. The match would surely draw to a close soon.

Yang, not really being a note-taker, had a few general comments she could make. But, given the track record of the last few sessions, Blake and Weiss would probably have meticulous _essays_ of things to say that usually axed whatever she had to pieces anyways, so she leaned back and decided to just enjoy the show.

Jaune's aura hadn't broken, not yet, but it was dwindling quick. Pyrrha's assault was not letting up, and he was scrambling back faster and faster to no avail. Yang couldn't tell if Pyrrha was pushing him harder than normal or if the both of them were just so off-balance that they were slipping in opposite directions.

...Hmm. That might be a fun angle to tease him on. Or her - Yang was an all-opportunity teaser, and as lunch had shown Pyrrha could, indeed, get red. It might be fun to give her a jab and a poke, here or there, and see how deep that shade could get, or if Pyrrha would return fire.

Of course, Yang in no way _wanted_ to genuinely upset her friends, so if Pyrrha shut down or actually began to anger than she'd stop immediately. Or turn her sights on Jaune - his stammering became quite hilarious when you knew how best to prompt it. She considered another joke like the one she'd made after class, referencing past massages, but she also didn't know if that would in turn cause an adverse reaction in him, especially considering the tension concerning his partner.

That tension, in turn, she decided not to tease him about for a bit. Like she'd said at lunch, she really _wasn't_ a sadist, she just liked seeing the emotional ranges of her friends.

...Still, she wasn't too sure she'd be up to make another ass joke. At least, not until the next time he gave her a back massage. That had been impulsive and far more suggestive than she normally was in any average conversation, teasing or not. He'd had a humorous reaction, but she still wasn't sure exactly what _her_ reaction had been. His massage had felt _astounding_ , and she had, in truth, found it somewhat pleasurable in the relief it brought. But such a joke as that painted a dangerous image about her, and much as she trusted Jaune not to assume things or say things about her behind her back, she didn't quite know how _he_ would interpret it. Or how he had.

...But how the hell do you broach a topic like that? 'Hey, what did you think of the time I made a joke implying I'd let you touch my butt because I liked the backrub you gave me?'

As if.

Jaune finally tumbled backwards, landing roughly on one knee again as Pyrrha prepared a final, match ending lunge.

* * *

Ruby wasn't sure what exactly sparked the impulse, only that it was sparked. She knew, on some level, that she had less experience than her team. She didn't often and overtly acknowledge it, but she _knew_ it to be true. She knew she couldn't critique a fight like Weiss or Blake, or give a general but uplifting pep-talk like Yang. It bothered her a bit, but in times like this she didn't focus on what she _couldn't_ do. With veins full of rose petals and the hyperactivity that accompanied her semblance, Ruby rarely thought in times of stress, excitement, or concern. She acted, and hoped her instincts led her in the right direction.

She'd seen his efforts. Perhaps she didn't see the growth she'd heard mentioned, but she saw that he didn't give up, didn't throw his sword aside in anger and quit. A few times, when they'd just started, he'd been so determined to keep going and learning that Pyrrha had to coax him to relax and let his body rest. Ruby saw that, and even if she didn't understand everything that was going on, she didn't need to know background to see the truth.

Still, she wasn't expecting to cry out "C'mon Jaune! You can do it!"

The rest of her team glanced over in surprise. She was always somewhat vocal, but she didn't often outright cheer for people, not after it had annoyed Weiss.

Pyrrha didn't slow down, or stop her lunge, but Jaune _did_ speed up. His aura flared brightly for a moment, and between a heartbeat and the next he dropped his sword, angled his hand, and allowed Miló to scrape across his palm, away from his body. His aura meter _dropped_ like a rock, but in that same instant Pyrrha's eyes widened in shock and he used that chance to snatch her wrist. Akoúo̱ flashed forward, but his left arm was quicker than hers by virtue of not being shocked by witnessing a self-sacrificial move. His shield expanded in an exact mimicry of his earlier move, but this time he yanked on her sword arm and snapped his shield open straight into her face. She flinched back, her aura flaring for a moment and dropping a decent amount, before she leaned in to offset his balance, leaping around him and twisting his arm behind his back. But, to the further surprise of the room, he moved with her, and Ruby remembered that Pyrrha had used the exact same move last time. He ducked, twisting in her grasp, snagging his sword off the ground and whirling it against Miló with a clash of metal. Jaune struggled valiantly for a moment, but whatever second wind he'd got was already fading and Pyrrha capitalized on that to twist her sword and, in a delicate motion that Ruby didn't actually see, neatly disarmed him.

His sword slid across the ground for a moment and Miló's point came up to his neck. Both of them were panting, but Jaune looked as if he were about to collapse and pass out, whereas Pyrrha was merely exhausted. The stood for a moment, before mutually albeit silently dropping their weapons, sinking to the ground and trying to catch their breath as Yang tossed them a few water bottles.

Jaune drained his bottle in about half a second, gasping as he laid back and finally allowed his body to relax.

Even though he hadn't won, Ruby still cheered.

* * *

Every muscle _burned_ , as they always did when he finished a spar with Pyrrha. He lay motionless, groaning theatrically when someone nudged him with a foot but still rolling over and staggering to his feet. Pyrrha leant him a hand, which he took judicious, shameless advantage of, before she nudged him in the ribs with an even look. It took him a moment to realize that his hands were still glowing. He blanched, but had no desire to explain why he hadn't dropped the aura enhancement already, and so did he finally allow the heat in his palms to drain away.

If no one noticed his jaw lock up, he was fine with that. The gentle, warm pressure of his aura was replaced with fire, as if someone had pressed a clothing iron to his palms, and he was immensely grateful that focus shifted off of him and on to the next sparring pair. It gave him the chance to slip into the men's changing room and dunk his hands under a freezing shower.

This was getting out of hand (hah). He needed to get this checked out, as soon as possible.

...But could he walk out of massaging Ruby? He'd said he would do it, hadn't he?

Jaune frowned, the water soothing but not healing. Using his aura was clearly worsening it, or at least tricking him into ignoring how bad it was getting during activities. He wanted to call it quits and reschedule, but how would they see that? Would Ruby be disappointed? Would they think he was the kind of guy to go back on his word?

It wasn't like he'd _promised_ to...but Ruby was his friend. His _first_ friend at Beacon. Surely he could afford one more massage, right? He'd pulled muscles and sprained things before and this wasn't _that_ bad.

He set his shoulders, drying his hands. Yeah, the pain wasn't that bad. He could manage it, at least for today - there was no one else to massage, anyways. Jaune figured it was a safe bet that Nora wouldn't want one, or at least not from _him_.

His decision made, Jaune once more squared his shoulders and prepared to return and watch the next round of sparring, before pausing and grabbing an ice-pack out of cold storage. He didn't actually _know_ if cold would help, but it certainly felt good, and that would give him some more fuel to keep going.

Cold plastic in hand and sweat freshly toweled off, Jaune returned to the main room to the sound of shotgun blasts and the flickering of Blake's semblance. As always, their match enraptured him, and he set his notepad down after a few moments to just watch the pair spar. aggressive brawling Yang vs quick, evasive Blake - it seemed pretty 50/50 as to who'd win. Usually it came down to one of them slipping up and the other capitalizing on that opening, as opposed to sheer skill differences.

Pyrrha bumped her shoulder against his, having returned from the women's locker room. He smiled, gratefully accepting another water bottle from her. After a moment, he picked his notebook back up. He had to take at least a few notes, even if Weiss would cover them and more when the session ended.

* * *

Pyrrha was conflicted, even if she didn't show it. Jaune had performed excellently today - easily one of his best spars, but some horrid little part of her pondered if some of that was attributed to Ruby's cheering. He'd obviously received a second wind from it, or at least enough encouragement to keep fighting.

Then again, hadn't he always been incredibly stubborn when it came to training? It was almost self-destructive how hard he pushed himself - and on that note, she didn't even _want_ to think about his stunt with his hand earlier. Not when she couldn't shout at him.

She couldn't decide if it was his personality, Ruby's encouragement, or if she was being _entirely_ stupid for even considering the two as alternatives. He'd pulled off an extremely dangerous, yet admittedly effective stunt and nailed her with a solid hit as a result - that was worth celebrating, right?

She sighed, knowing that whatever notes she'd have for Yang and Blake would be the same as last times. She couldn't give in depth critique without personal sparring - she'd fought her friends in training matches before, but her focus was on Jaune's growth right now.

With a bang, one of Yang's blasts clipped Blake's side as she yanked the ribbon of Gambol Shroud back, the recoil-propelled kusarigama hitting Yang. Yang's semblance complicated training, so like Pyrrha she used it on request. As it was, both strikes brought their aura's down past the redline (although Blake was still lower), signalling the end of the match. It had been quick, even not counting the time spent in the locker room.

Ruby clapped, Pyrrha following suit with a smile as Jaune seemed to consider it, before leaning down to frantically write something in his notebook. His handwriting seemed a little sloppy, but given the ice he had been holding to his hands she figured he'd strained them a bit too much, today.

"Excellent match as always, you two!" Pyrrha called out, beaming at Yang's tired grin and Blake's contented nod. The two took their ten minutes to cool off, vanishing into the locker room to towel, change, and grab some extra water. In that time, Jaune scribbled a few more notes on the pages he'd marked for himself, before turning and grabbing a different notebook. Opening a fresh page, he took in a deep breath and prepared himself for the impending critique of his match.

Pyrrha's smile turned from bright to gentle, watching his insistent, unending desire to learn. She could always count on that.

* * *

Critique flew by, as always. Jaune's pen never left his paper, nodding and occasionally commenting when Weiss or Blake pointed out a mistake that he made, wincing at some of the ones he hadn't already noted in his self evaluation.

"Pyrrha gave you that block, when you fell backwards and rolled to your knee - and by the way, it may have worked here, but trying things requiring that much dexterity without practice in a match is a really _bad idea_ , even if you partner will let you keep going." Blake said flatly, an impassive look to both of them. Pyrrha didn't comment or allow her lips to thin, nodding once in agreement. Jaune had known that on some level, but he was still grateful she'd done it.

"Had the match ended there, he wouldn't have had the chance he did to push himself. It wasn't realistic, but it _was_ beneficial." Pyrrha said calmly, finishing his thought for him. He nodded, glancing up as Blake digested that before nodding and turning back to Weiss.

"You need to work on moving with impacts, Jaune, if you can't turn a block into a riposte. You let her kick hit you completely before you moved away from it." Weiss said, glancing up from her list. Jaune blinked, before nodding and scribbling that down as well. He would work out a way to focus on that in his next training session with Pyrrha, whenever that was.

"Thank you" He called distractedly, circling a few points and making a note to work on them before others.

"I'll let Pyrrha talk about that little stunt you pulled at the end." Blake said dryly, and Jaune shivered as Pyrrha's smile suddenly seemed way more foreboding than usual.

Weiss nodded, her expression neutral before sitting down next to Ruby, ready for her own round of critique.

Jaune gave what points he had, but Blake covered the majority of them with Yang and Pyrrha occasionally weighing in. Yang had pointers for Ruby, whereas Pyrrha, normal smile back, gently informed her of some openings she needed to be mindful of. While the training was always nerve wracking, being surrounded by the sheer amount of advice in the room never failed to remind him how _lucky_ he was.

Blake and Yang's went even quicker, as Weiss had only a few comments that got everything off his list before he could speak. After that, they agreed on the next session date and started to pack up equipment. Jaune had barely shut his locker when Ruby, quick as always to get ready to leave, called from the door a "See you later, Jaune!"

The door was shut before he could call an affirmative of his own back, and he gave a bemused smile as Pyrrha and Yang laughed.

* * *

Later, as it happened, was in reality quite soon.

There was little else to do that day except eat dinner and go over a quiz issued by Professor Peach, so in no time at all Jaune once more found himself standing at the door to RWBY's room. He raised a hand, wincing once, before squaring his shoulders and knocking. The action, while painful, didn't make him wince, so he took that as a good sign while he waited. A few moments later, the door cracked open as a silver eye peeked through the resulting crack. Seeing it was him, Ruby threw the door open and…

Stood there.

All at once, Jaune was struck by a sudden realization that this massage might be awkward for a _very_ different reason.

"Uh, hi Ruby." Jaune offered.

Ruby seemed to shake herself out of a stupor at this, fiddling awkwardly with her fingers as she giggled out a "Hi Jaune! Um…"

They stood there for another moment, the silence dragging until painfully awkward, before Jaune finally said "Can, ah, can I come in?"

"Right!" Ruby yelped, moving out of the way to let him in.

Jaune's gut was churning, though he wasn't entirely sure why - the prospect of this massage still felt different than the previous, which he was more inclined to chalk up to the age difference than he had been earlier, especially considering this first interaction. Ruby wasn't doing this because she was in pain, or because she wanted to contextualize a reaction she had observed. She was just curious, and had heard that other people had received one.

He stepped in to the familiar room, realizing that he'd spent more time in here than in his own room lately, minus time spent sleeping of course. He didn't really know what to think about that, or if he should even think anything about.

"So, um, how does this work?" Ruby tentatively asked. Jaune glanced over, absentmindedly rubbing his wrists to encourage blood flow.

"Well, uh, do you just want a backrub? Or…?" Jaune trailed off, seeing in Ruby's expression that she had _absolutely_ no idea. "Lets, ah," he continued, "just go with that, shall we?"

Ruby nodded, relieved that she hadn't needed to make a decision for something she knew nothing about.

"So, uh, you could sit backwards in a chair, or on the floor, or, uhh" He trailed off again, hoping that this decision would be easier for her. His prayers were rewarded as she immediately chose to pull some of Weiss' fancy chairs out of the closet, setting them up in the center of the room. She sat down, back to him, and he blanched as he realized what needed to happen next. This would be...very awkward.

"Uh, R-ruby?" He stammered out, coughing pointlessly into his hand as she turned, fixing him with a questioning look.

"Yeah?"

"I, um. It's, it's a _super_ minor thing but, um...n-nevermind, actually."

"Uh, o-okay?" Ruby said, obviously confused.

At that moment, as the words had been ready in his throat, Jaune had swallowed them with a sudden thought. Was asking, or even _insinuating_ that Ruby should take her shirt off _at all_ the right thing to do?

He set his expression, forgoing the usual attempts and flooding his hands with aura from the start. Was it a bad decision? Probably. But he'd need all the dexterity and strength he could get.

* * *

dont ask me xiao long: ok no but srsly who's going tomorrow

snow thanks: Who says anything is _going to happen_ tomorrow?

dont ask me xiao long: aiight if you arent gonna take advantage of this opportunity then i will

dont ask me xiao long: wait hold on

check meowt: Oh no.

 _dont ask me xiao long has added Pyrrha Nikos!_

Pyrrha Nikos: Oh my.

snow thanks: _leave while you can_.

 _dont ask me xiao long has changed Pyrrha Nikos' name to: polarity dancer_

polarity dancer: Ah.

 _dont ask me xiao long has locked polarity dancer's name!_

dont ask me xiao long: lmao hi pyrrha

dont ask me xiao long: ok so what were we talking about

polarity dancer: ...Ah.

check meowt: I'm so sorry.

* * *

Ruby wasn't entirely sure how to feel about this whole situation. On one hand, Jaune was a really good friend! On the other hand, she was feeling a little bit nervous and wasn't entirely sure why. She'd trained with Jaune and studied in the library with him before. Heck, he'd listened eagerly as she talked about Crescent Rose!

She didn't know what he was going to ask her, and that also kinda unnerved her. This entire situation felt...weird. Not bad, but different. Different things were (supposedly) good, according to Yang, but Ruby had always preferred things she was accustomed to. Still, it annoyed her that her team had been doing something without her knowing. Sure, they didn't _have_ to tell her everything, but it'd be nice to be told _some_ things. Besides, Yang _knew_ she liked backrubs! Yang had given her backrubs all the time when they were younger!

Jaune's hands found her shoulders and she shivered. His hands were really warm, and she could hear his steady breathing behind her as his hands fluttered across her back for a moment. He hesitated, before finally positioning his hands at her shoulders again and starting to dig his thumbs in.

She gasped, pain lancing through her shoulders as he dug in. He stopped instantly as she leaned away from his hands, leaning forward and stammering out a worried "R-ruby? Is that alright?"

"It- It hurts…" she mumbled, slowly becoming more and more confused as to why her team had seemed to enjoy this.

Jaune bit his lip in the corner of her eye, his hands once more gentle at her shoulders, before he gently said "M-Massages usually hurt...it's because I'm, ah, working tension out...Oh! Imagine it like this, Ruby!" He exclaimed, floundering for a moment before pulling his hands off her back.

"Imagine you were Crescent Rose, right? And you needed some maintenance, some cleaning. You had some gunk jamming mechanisms, right? Well, being pulled apart probably wouldn't feel too good, but it lets someone get to the bad stuff and make it go away, right?"

Ruby blinked, nodding along.

"Thats- I mean, I'm not _taking you apart_ , of course, but it's the same idea - it hurts, but once that pain goes away it feels better because your muscles are relaxed."

"I, I think I understand," she mumbled, leaning back towards him tentatively. "Will, um, will it hurt the whole time?"

Jaune's expression softened, and something in her gut fluttered at his gentle face. "No, and I'll be gentle-" he froze, to her confusion, suddenly turning bright red and coughing hard into his elbow. She guessed he must have choked on something, as he quickly rose from the crook of his arm, spluttering before composing his still pink face.

"I'll, um, I'll be careful." He rasped, and she nodded and turned back around.

"I trust you, Jaune." She said, simply, unable to see him close his eyes and savor the words for a moment.

His hands returned to her shoulders, pressing in with far more care. It still hurt, but she shivered and endured.

Indeed, it wasn't long before what he described came to pass, and she began to enjoy it just as thoroughly as her teammates had before her.

* * *

For the first time since this entire debacle had began, Jaune found a massage to be a calming, almost zen-like experience. Ruby was groaning, but it was...different. It wasn't sexual, it wasn't teasing, it wasn't entirely pleasured - she still winced in pain and leaned away from his hands now and then. He avoided the places on her back where she'd done that. Even her shirt wasn't proving too irksome an obstacle, it just presented a new challenge for him. Something he'd discovered when reflecting on Weiss' massage was that, while it did feel a little humiliating at first, he'd actually quite enjoyed the chance to refresh his rusted skills in that department. If he could get proficient at massaging people with shirts on he could eliminate a significant amount of the awkwardness, and help shut the best annoying corners of his mind up.

He _staunchly_ ignored the parts of his mind whispering about escapism and how he should stop running from self-reflective questions. He had a friend to massage.

...And that really was the crux of it, wasn't it? Ruby was his friend. It was difficult to think about in most circumstances but here, right now, he could contemplate it without running. Ruby was his _friend_ , not his crush.

Could there be something romantic between them? Probably, but right now? He didn't think he saw her that way.

...Granted, he hadn't realized he'd had a crush on Pyrrha until she confessed to him, but surely that was because he'd simply never thought of her in that context. He was thinking about Ruby _in_ that context, right now.

The thoughts didn't settle his mind, but he was starting to figure that nothing ever would.

His hand slipped down, thumb passing over a very familiar strap that would have had him flushing scarlet and steaming out the ears if it had happened with Yang or Pyrrha or Blake or-

Well, anyone but Ruby.

His gut settled, slightly. He didn't react when she groaned particularly happily or leaned into his touch. His mind didn't linger on the warmth of her skin or the color of her hair or the shape of her torso. He just...massaged her.

His mind wasn't settled, and he still pondered the possibility that something would change. He didn't know if that change, in any direction, would be good or bad and honestly he didn't want to think like that right now. Four massages in a row had consisted of his mind racing at a thousand miles an hour about his friends - he'd savor this moment of calm waters as long as he could call it his.

In time, he ran out of knots to seek in her back. His motions slowed, tapering off as Ruby sleepily turned, her eyes fluttering as she mumbled out something vaguely question-y sounding. He laughed gently, helping her up and sitting her on Weiss' bed. Her hands clung to his arm for a moment, and he gently poked her forehead to wake her back up.

"Wha…?" She mumbled, rubbing a hand against her eye.

"I gotta go, Ruby." He whispered. He was strangely content, despite the uneasiness still within his mind. This was nice, much the same kind of nice he'd felt when Blake and Weiss had thanked him. She looked so relaxed, so sleepy, and it seemed likely that he'd helped with that.

Ruby blearily nodded, absentmindedly tugging at her shirt. Jaune took that as his cue to leave, standing up and turning to the door, grabbing his tie before pausing as he heard her shift behind him.

"Thankss, Jaune…" She mumbled, the words cutting off with a yawn as Jaune grinned back at her.

"No problem, Ruby. Happy to help."

She nodded, and he turned away from the sound of rustling cloth, slipping quietly out through the door.

* * *

Jaune walked into the cafeteria, seeking out the vending machine that had Pyrrha's favorite snacks. Three pairs of eyes turned from their conversation, tracking his walk as he ordered, and only as he bent down to retrieve the chips and dried fruit did he realize his hands were still glowing.

He'd chalk it up to general nice feelings from the Massage's aftermath, later, but without thinking he let aura flow out of his hands. A bag of dried apple slices and salsa flavored chips slipped from his grasp as his shoulders froze, his jaw clenching hard enough to make him worry he'd break something in his skull. He didn't know if that'd be preferable to making noises, but it was too late now to doubt his choice.

One pair of eyes narrowed, catching the minute movements from a good angle. He didn't see this, turning and finally realizing he was being watched. He fixed a stiff grin on his face, waving shakily at his friends as his hands didn't stop trembling, no matter how hard he tried to keep them steady.

This was bad. He didn't regret massaging Ruby, only that he hadn't gone to the nurse first.

Yang waved back, Weiss cocked an eyebrow but said nothing, before she returned to her drink with a lift of her fingers. Blake stared evenly at him, turning back to her cereal after a moment, and for some reason that filled him with foreboding.

Still, Pyrrha was waiting for them to go over notes, so he hurried back. He'd check with the nurse tomorrow.

As he left, Blake pulled out her scroll and started typing.

* * *

check meowt: I think something's wrong with Jaune.

dont ask me xiao long: ?

snow thanks: How do you mean.

polarity dancer: What is it?

check meowt: I don't know. He was pretty far away, but he didn't look good.

dont ask me xiao long: didnt he just drop his snacks?

check meowt: As far as I'm concerned he looked like he was being electrocuted.

snow thanks: How do you...nevermind. Pyrrha, ask him when he gets back.

polarity dancer: I...don't think that's a good idea. When he's had long, tiring days, he sometimes clams up instead of talking about things. I'll wait until tomorrow, I think.

check meowt: Okay.

dont ask me xiao long: hope nothings wrong

snow thanks: Something apparently is. Keep us updated.

polarity dancer: Will do.

* * *

Jaune returned to a quiet room. Evidently, in his absence, Ren and Nora had arrived, albeit jet-lagged enough to immediately go to bed. As hyperactive as Nora could be at all hours, this surprised him. He waved tiredly at Pyrrha, his hand trembling still but under better control, and got into bed before she could ask him anything.

Sleep came quickly, but there was little comfort to be found in his dreams. Even in sleep, his hands burned like fire was his blood.

* * *

 **Not quite as on schedule as the last one was, but we're gettin' there boys.**

 **This chapter is a weird one, because when I first conceptualized this story I was very young and Ruby romance felt totally normal. Having grown older, the age gap feels slightly weirder as a result, but both of them are still teens and i'll keep that in mind while still trying to make sure that it doesn't get to uncomfy levels of writing. Over the course of this slow-burn sexuality will become a prevelent element, and that's what I meant by weirdness, since Ruby is 15 at this time. Two years isn't a huge age Gap, but since legal ages have never been stated by characters I'm rolling with 18, so that's part of Jaune's discomfort.**

 **As always** **, thanks to my surrogate big sister Akardos, otherwise known as Siderial, for beta'ing this chapter even though it's making her gay ass read jaune garbo lmao. Love ya honey 3**

 **A** _ **huge**_ **thank you to Spooky_Noodle for meticulously going over this chapter and helping me find typo's and general weirdness - he cleaned a lot of this stuff up. Another thank you to Mike the Remnant Paladin for his proofreading as well.**

 **I'm trying to stick to my minimum of 500 words a day but three intensive, project orientated Graphic Design classes plus impending theatre work** _ **plus**_ **a new personal project involving learning both Maya, Unity and C# means I need to practice better time management. I barely have time for games ;-;**

 **In an ideal world I'd have several chapters written in advance to create a buffer but lmao nah, i'm flyin' by the seat of my pants and y'all are in for the ride, Ye Dragons (how's that for a nice, gender neutral term?).**

 **Thanks for reading, leave a review and bls send me an ask on tumbumblr at "Stromael-Writes" im lonely and sad.**

 **Cheers!**

 **Stromael**


	6. A Short, Hands-Free Interlude

**Make sure to read the authors note at the bottom, this time. I clarify some important stuff there.**

* * *

Pyrrha's jaw was tight as she watched Jaune speed his way into bed, tugging his clothes off and slipping under the covers in record time. It was a tell she'd learned to realized, just like with his minute expressions - the speed with which he got ready for bed generally indicated his mood at the time.

There was more, though. She _saw_ it. His discomfort was plain as day, now that she knew to look. His teeth were clenched when he tugged his clothes off, his arm trembling slightly as he brushed his teeth, having to correct his blanket's position on his body after he accidentally let go of it before it was in the right place.

It was _obvious_ , and she'd missed it.

There was more, though, something that bothered her to an even greater degree than her inexcusable lack of attention (the Jaune in her head gently but firmly told her this was a stupid thing to berate herself for. She ignored him.)

What was causing this? Clearly something was bothering him, and clearly it was nothing minor - had he injured himself in the sparring match and neglected to tell them? Scrolls could monitor aura usage but they couldn't monitor internal injuries, pulled muscles or sprained joints. The technology to identify those kinds of symptoms was exclusive to Beacon Medical and no one had displayed a need to go _but how many times_ had Jaune tried to foolishly push through an injury, before?

Pyrrha desperately, _desperately_ wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him and _demand_ why he didn't say anything, to rush him to Medical and figure out _what was wrong_ with her partner, because he was _hurting_.

Instead, all she could do was watch him toss and turn, obviously in pain, not saying the slightest thing to her or his team about it. Nora would gripe but neither her nor Ren would complain for a _second_ if Jaune woke them because he was in pain, so _why didn't_ -

It was fruitless to argue herself in circles. She knew the answer, anyways.

Her partner wasn't perfect by a long or short shot, and he had no confidence in either himself or in the value or severity of anything going on in his life. Even if the pain was severe, she hadn't managed to drill through his thick skull that his pain was _just as important_ as theirs, and needed to be taken care of. That _all_ of them would happily drop something to help him, because her idiot partner was their _friend_.

...There was no point in it now, though. Jaune needed to learn that his concerns were just as important as theirs, but waking him up and pushing that debate into an argument would make this situation even worse.

It added a new item to the list, she supposed. His self-sacrificial habits that needed to _go away please and never come back_ , and his stupid belief that he mattered less than any of them.

Nora stirred, and Pyrrha absentmindedly brushed some hair off the sleeping girl's forehead. Nora was far more peaceful in rest than when awake. Pyrrha found the contrast pleasant, trying to absorb some of the peace on her teammates face to ease the rolling emotions in her gut. It helped a little, but not as much as she'd have liked.

Ren shifted under his covers and Pyrrha sighed, knowing that she should get to bed. Whatever this situation really was and how it would be resolved wouldn't become apparent until tomorrow, and she'd have a long wait if she didn't go to sleep soon.

That didn't make it any easier, of course. Sleep eluded her even once she'd pulled blankets up to her neck, and for the first time in many months, Pyrrha found herself reaching for her scroll, tempted to message the group chat she'd been added to. She had no idea what to say, no words came to her fingers to ease the discomfort in her gut.

Frustrated, she put her scroll down and turned away from it, staring at Nora's peaceful expression enviously. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

Weiss found a strange solace in the chaos of her team's room - it was consistent, and she liked consistent things. There was always a flurry of activity as everyone prepared for bed and she always sat as a calm in that storm, brushing her hair at her desk. The repetitive, zen-like motion was something she knew would happen every night, and it was in these moments that she allowed her mind to truly wander.

The chaos today was subdued. It didn't take a genius to figure out why, of course, although no one had informed Ruby of what Blake had seen. Weiss considered it, watching the girl brush her teeth in the bathroom, almost as aggressively as Yang did, but chose not to tell her. They all needed a bit of rest, even if it _was_ the weekend - the chance to sleep in didn't mean they should be up late, and Ruby would be worried and active if she knew.

Yang would disagree, but Weiss was slowly perfecting the art of keeping-Yang-from-remembering-to-be-dumb-by-not-reminding-her-of-what-she-shouldn't-do. It was a learned skill.

She chuckled under her breath, gently working free some small snags in her hair. She'd already changed into her nightgown and brushed her teeth, not wanting to be in the bathroom when it was overtaken by a hyperactive teenager and her just-as-bad sister.

A gentle ding sounded from her scroll, the late-night quiet notification informing her that someone had messaged a group chat. Instantly suspicious, Weiss checked the bathroom again but found that Yang appeared to be trying to ruin Ruby's hair, her scroll nowhere in sight. Guessing it was probably safe, the heiress turned her scroll from the edge of the desk and glanced at the notification.

polarity dancer _:_ I can't sleep.

Weiss sighed, setting her brush down. She didn't need to turn to know Blake had seen it, hearing the rustling of her teammate reaching for her charging scroll.

check meowt: Music?

polarity dancer: Don't want to wake Nora. Or Ren. Or Jaune.

Weiss winced at the near-instant response. She didn't really feel concern over the situation - people got injured, or sick, all the time. Hell, Ren had been badly ill already this year. This wasn't that different.

But Weiss couldn't forget when _Ruby_ had come down with a bad case of food poisoning. She remembered the completely, utterly irrational worry she'd felt, even knowing that there was _no_ chance of Ruby's condition deteriorating. Knowing that she'd be fine, that she'd only be sick for a day or two, but every time she'd heard her partner heaving up what little food or broth she could choke down into the toilet she'd felt a spike of unignorable fear.

Jaune wasn't dying. He wasn't going to be permanently scarred. He'd just given some _massages_. But to Pyrrha? Seeing her partner in pain, seeing him hurt, unable to help _right now_ and unable to _make him better_?

Weiss could imagine few worse ways to spend a night than simply _existing_ in that panic.

She picked up her scroll to open the group chat, but after a moment she set it back down. Comfort wasn't her forte, and she didn't know any way to ease Pyrrha's...everything. Yang might, but they'd need to wait until the sisters were finished attacking each other in the bathroom to avoid telling Ruby.

...Was it right, to withhold this?

Weiss pursed her lips, deciding her hair had received enough care for the night. Sure, it sounded right on paper to not tell Ruby because it would keep her awake, but was that _really_ a good reason? Didn't she have just as much a right to know the goings-on of this situation-

Weiss blinked, trying to discern when she'd decided _she_ wanted to know the goings-on of this situation.

Her jaw clenched as she thought more about it.

Probably about the same time that she decided Yang's "rotation" crap wasn't entirely _undeserving_ of consideration.

Ugh.

After a moment or two (or twelve), Weiss begrudgingly picked up her scroll and typed a quick message into the group chat.

Throwing it on to the charging pad before she could even see answers, she slipped into bed and resolved that if she fell asleep before responses came in, that wasn't her problem.

* * *

Blake snickered, watching Weiss' shoulders tense at the sound.

snow thanks: Should we add Ruby to this chat?

It may be a valid question, but that _Weiss_ of all people was asking was hilarious in and of itself. For all the heiress' posturing and dismissive attitude, she _definitely_ cared about her partner. Sure, it was easy to see in matters of academics and combat training, but for Weiss to want to bring Ruby in on this whole...thing, to Blake, seemed to indicate that Weiss was worried about Ruby feeling excluded.

The concern wasn't unfounded, but at the same time…

dont ask me xiao long: not now. i dont want her to feel left out of stuff but we should prolably figure out this sitch first.

dont ask me xiao long: lol prolably

Out of the corner of her eye Blake saw Weiss shoot a look away from her scroll over to the bathroom, probably wondering when the blonde had grabbed her own scroll.

Blake was thankful Yang had weighed in on it. She didn't really know how to formulate her thoughts on the matter. Yang, joking or not, was pushing an angle of rotational massages, presumably daily. Assuming, of course, they could figure out how to keep whatever was happening with Jaune from happening again.

Blake...didn't really know what to think of that. She wouldn't turn down another massage from the blond, but adding Ruby to the group chat felt like it would be solidifying this mess into something real, something consistent.

She rubbed the bridge of her nose, already getting the feeling that she'd be thinking herself in circles on this topic. But something felt weird about making this 'official'.

Yang would probably have a quip on that, and Weiss would roll her eyes and mutter about making mountains out of molehills. That was, of course, the other reason why Blake didn't voice this strangeness. But she couldn't just _tell_ herself that the strangeness was stupid and didn't deserve thinking about. Her brain, unfortunately, didn't work like that.

She supposed, in a way, it _was_ like making mountains out of molehills (her brain helpfully supplied this in Weiss' voice, making her chuckle) of this entire situation. Like if Yang and her went to get coffee and hit a few stores every other week or so, but then all of a sudden decided to schedule _every single stop_ down to the minute including bathroom breaks, which aisles they'd browse and exactly what they'd purchase while out. It felt like an almost unnecessary amount of focus and thought given to something that...really didn't feel deserving of that effort.

Jaune was just giving _massages._ To schedule them, organize a rotation, coordinate with everyone, making them consistent and _a thing_ just seemed…

Her brain once more helpfully supplied a friend's voice, this time imitating Nora and completing the thought with "like, _really_ extra."

She breathed a sigh, distractedly slipping her well-worn bookmark into the pages of her book. Just as she'd expected: thinking herself in circles.

Was it wrong to be weirded out by this situation? Conversely, was it wrong to want to organize consistency to something like this?

She supposed, if everyone involved indeed wanted another massage, it was simply efficient to actually draw up a schedule, but something _still_ felt weird about it.

Well, if she could introspect enough to guess when she'd get nowhere in her thoughts, she was also introspective enough to know that sleeping on a problem often helped more than it hurt. Future-Blake could think herself in circles on this subject. Now-Blake wanted to rest.

...But without the distraction of trying to pick her own brain apart, her mind drifted towards a different subject.

Just how many _times_ had she seen Jaune in pain, before last night? She hadn't been looking for it, but a handful of things that had stood out regardless suddenly made more sense. She'd seen his aura activate in class on his hands, but had merely figured he was doing exercises in his down time. She'd seen looks of quickly quashed discomfort - hell, he'd come out of training with _icepacks_ on his hands, despite not bruising anything that she'd noticed.

It wasn't as if she felt an oppressive need to worry over the guy. He had Pyrrha for that, anyways, but _something_ had been going on. Hindsight may be 20/20, but a good huntress had just as perceptive vision in the present.

She resolved to work on that, though she didn't really know how to, before pulling up her covers and setting her scroll back on it's charging pad after firing off a quick message.

Sleep came quickly, though she (as usual) remembered none of her dreams.

* * *

Yang was thankful that Ruby seemed to tire as fast as she could move when awake. She'd barely finished brushing her teeth and fixing her hair before the wind dropped out of her sails and her entire body seemed to sag.

Coaxing her younger sister into bed wasn't particularly hard, even if she did have to half-lift the girl to her hamm-bunk. However, that left Yang alone in the room. Blake was already drifting to sleep, having left a message to the chat, and Weiss was getting there herself.

Figuring she'd at least _try_ and reassure Pyrrha, Yang clambered up into her own bed and pulled her scroll out, going through unread messages until she arrived at Blake's.

check meowt: I agree, but if there's anything to debate on the subject we can do that tomorrow. I'm tired, so good night.

Yang rather shamelessly turned to her stash of puns, each one organized by category and potential situation.

Well, that was the ideal anyways. As it was, she scrolled for a few minutes before finding the one she'd remembered (just not memorized)

dont ask me xiao long: hey pyrrha

polarity dancer: Yes, Yang?

dont ask me xiao long: how come dragons sleep during the day

polarity dancer: ...Why is that, Yang?

dont ask me xiao long: so they can fight knights

Yang's honed instincts saved her, twisting out of the way of a flying pillow as Weiss failed to resist the temptation to check her scroll.

polarity dancer: Haha

Yang frowned, not liking the disingenuity of that response.

dont ask me xiao long: what do u give a goliath that cant sleep

polarity dancer: I don't know, Yang.

dont ask me xiao long: a trunkquilizer

Weiss audibly _groaned_ , but Yang felt no cheer as Pyrrha responded with a laughing emoji. It still didn't feel right, and she was almost certain that Pyrrha was only humoring her. That wouldn't do.

She was scrolling through her list, trying to pick the best one for this situation, when a notification rang out from the groupchat.

check meowt: Aren't you _tired_ of these puns, Pyrrha?

Yang _choked_.

There was no response for a few moments, and Yang's heart sank a fraction as the silence dragged almost uncomfortably so, before-

polarity dancer: Thanks, you guys. I needed that laugh.

All wasn't right in the world, but it was better. Yang considered that a job well done, and leaned over just far enough to shoot Blake a winning grin.

Blake cocked an eyebrow, turning away from Yang's gaze without a word or motion, but Yang knew her thanks had been received. That job done, Yang turned back and yanked her blankets up.

After a few moments, she sighed, pushing them back down.

Why was this situation concerning her so much? Pyrrha was her friend, sure, but…

So was Jaune. It was a strange friendship - they didn't really interact much aside from the occasional pun one would make and the other would appreciate. The conversation during her massage had been the most they'd spoken or really interacted in _ages_.

She figured that she was just curious when he'd next be up to massage her, but that felt...wrong. Like she was using him, curious when he'd get better _just_ so she could take advantage of a skill of his.

...But wasn't that what she was doing? Or did she care on a deeper level than just a curiosity of when she'd next get something nice out of this situation?

That didn't feel right. That wasn't how she saw this mess they'd all gotten in to. At least, she hoped not. They might not be 'friends' but she didn't want to feel like she was using anyone, and she _certainly_ didn't want him to feel used.

Well, she'd just have to make sure that he _didn't_ feel that way. Massages were nice, but he wasn't a commodity to be traded or taken advantage of.

He may be a bit bland in his usual demeanour, but there seemed to be more to him than met the eye.

Her mind flickered back to when he had nearly come to tears over a simple statement of trust. She hadn't been able to think too hard on it earlier, but…

What kind of environment results in that kind of person? She couldn't even _imagine_ herself being emotional over someone saying they trusted her _not_ to be a scumbag.

...Well, with the Weiss Defrosting Project and the Ruby Coming Out Of Her Sometimes-Almost-Invisible-But-Very-Present Shell Project, it wouldn't kill her to add a third to the list. Figure Out What The Heck Was Wrong With Jaune, perhaps.

The things she did for her friends.

She smiled, finally relaxing into her bed. She had a plan of action - she could figure the rest out on the journey. Hadn't failed her this far, after all.

* * *

There were many ways Ren _enjoyed_ waking up. He liked waking up on weekends, knowing there was no need to get up for some time. He liked waking up before his alarm so he could catch it right as it went off and go back into blissful rest before the next one. He liked waking up to Nora urging him to make pancakes, though he didn't often show it.

He _didn't_ like waking up to sounds of pain - he never had. Nora didn't have nightmares as often as she had once upon a time; neither of them slept well for a long time after they first met, but they had found comfort in each other in those times. Even now, returning to the memorial site established for his village brought them only a quiet grief, not the hellish memories that it had long ago, when the wounds bled, and had not yet scarred.

Nevertheless, he awoke before his alarm clock on a weekend, having planned to make pancakes anyways, to the sight and sound of his leader curled up in bed, clenching his hands, and looking as if he were about to cry.

Jaune wasn't a crybaby, but he did shed tears. Sometimes it was funny, like when he pretended to cry over something pointless and conjured a tear or when he actually cried because some small animal was 'too cute'. Sometimes it was sad, where he would cry over failure and only Pyrrha had a chance of consoling him. Sometimes he cried because he was overwhelmed, and then they could all help him through whatever small breakdown had fallen upon him. Nora took special care, having had moments like that herself since coming to Beacon.

 _This_ , however, was a far different beast. Jaune's pain tolerance wasn't exactly stellar, considering his lack of experience, but what _was_ stellar and infuriating was his habit of not telling anyone he was in pain. Moments like these, when his face clenched and he hunched up, his eyes wet, gritting his teeth even in his sleep, were the most telling and most heart-rending clues. It made it obvious that something was wrong, and he couldn't deny it anymore, but it hurt to see that he _had_ been hiding it, and it took his tears to clue them in, no matter that Ren and Nora had been gone for a few days.

Ren slipped out of his bed, his feet contacting the carpeted floor in silence. He slipped past Jaune's bed, crossing the room and gently rubbing Pyrrha's shoulder. As she rose, bleary eyed but sobering instantly upon hearing the noises, he turned to Nora and pinched her ear. She awoke near-instantly, silent in response to their agreed-upon signal for quite wake-ups.

He passed Pyrrha's stiff, clenched body, her jaw tight with frustration and sadness at Jaune's situation. As Ren approached his leader's bed he saw that Jaune was clenching his shaking hands to his body, his fingers trembling as a tear finally broke free, sliding down his face.

Ren swallowed, gently placing a hand on Jaune's shoulder and giving him a purposeful but soft shake.

"Jaune. Wake up." He whispered, trying to control his voice and not let it waver as the blonde's eyes fluttered. After a few moments his leader came to, whimpering as whatever comfort sleep brought was washed away. Ren steadied him as best as he could, Pyrrha dropping to a knee next to him and laying a hand against the blonde's cheek. After a few moments she pulled back, and Ren guessed that she'd been checking for a temperature. Realizing that she hadn't taken a closer look yet, he leaned over and whispered into her ear.

"It's his hands, I think."

Pyrrha went pale, giving a shaky nod as she motioned for Nora to take her place, standing up and heading towards the door.

"P-Pyrrha?" Jaune weakly called, and she froze, looking as if she might cry. Ren knew the feeling. He wasn't particularly emotional but when Nora went through a breakdown or when Jaune was in a state like this, he found himself sympathetically choked up.

"I'm-I'm going for a moment, Jaune." She managed to say in a strangled voice, "I'm getting, the nurse, and I'll be back soon I _promise_."

Jaune nodded weakly, and Ren tried to take some level of comfort in how Jaune was not protesting this treatment. Either he realized that there was no point in telling them to stop, which would be _wonderful_ , or he was simply too groggy and too pained to coherently (and stupidly) tell them to not worry about him.

Either way, Pyrrha slipped out of the room. She likely would need a moment to compose herself.

Putting aside his own sympathetic emotions for a moment (a skill that had taken no small amount of time to learn) Ren could tell that this situation was probably not dire. Jaune was in a lot of pain, but it didn't look serious. He wasn't screaming, and given his pretty normal pain tolerance that indicated that it wasn't that bad. Painful, definitely, but not an emergency.

...Hopefully.

Didn't mean it didn't hurt to see, though. Pyrrha especially, given how invested she was in her partner. Ren could train with Nora and be fine getting battered by and with her. He was content to see the same, but when she got sick, or when she used to get nightmares…

Ren sighed, shaking the thoughts away and reaching out to gently brush a finger against Jaune's shaking hands. The boy stiffened, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood before his aura sealed the cut, and so Ren pulled back immediately. Definitely his hands. What _had_ he been doing?

Damn. He should have asked Pyrrha before she left.

He sighed, sitting down and leaning against Jaune's bed as Nora mirrored him, fussing her hand into his hair. Ren knew from experience that this had a calming effect on Jaune, and he began telling vague, soft stories about his trip with Nora, leaving out unnecessary and upsetting details.

He hoped Pyrrha returned soon.

* * *

Nora enjoyed playing with Jaune's hair. She'd been surprised by how fluffy it was the first time she'd fixed her fingers into his curls, and she'd been unable to keep from asking how he took care of it. He'd turned quite red, but mumbled something about seven sisters forcing him to use specific hair products and habits being hard to break.

Nora had no idea why he was embarrassed about having good hair, _or_ about taking good care of his hair. He'd seemed to lighten a bit on the subject when she'd said as much, once more mumbling but this time it was something about expecting to be teased for it.

That confused her _even more_ , but Pyrrha had suddenly looked all serious and told him how they'd never tease him unless he was also laughing, and she couldn't see his face for a bit since he was hugging his knees, but it just felt _right_.

Jaune had given her free reign to mess with his hair after that, much to her delight - she took him up on that offer _often_. When they studied together, or sat around watching shows on Ren's scroll, or…

Now that she thought of it, they all seemed to cuddle a lot. That made her happy.

Now, though, her head-pats didn't seem to be helping him much. He still looked all scrunched up, even with Ren's storyteller voice. _That_ at least always made her feel better-

Jaune shifted, and Nora leaned forward. His eyes were still shut and he still had his teeth clenched pretty hard, but he finally seemed to be trying to move his covers. Ren placed a hand on his shoulder before her big dumb leader could try and get up while sick, or whatever this was, though.

"Rest, Jaune." He said firmly, and Jaune's weak protests were cut off by a more insistent " _Rest._ "

The blonde grumbled, but did not protest too much when he was allowed to lay back down.

"If you want to be useful, though, can you explain what happened?"

Jaune winced, though it seemed different than his previous ones, especially since his hands hadn't moved.

"I, u-um, I gave some massages?" He half-stated-half-asked, which confused Nora. Why would he be questioning it?

"And you don't understand why that caused this?" Ren finished.

Oh. That made sense.

"Jaune," Ren started, his voice way softer. Jaune turned to look him more directly, and Ren continued with "I need to look at your hands."

Jaune's face said _exactly_ what he thought about that, and Ren nodded.

"I know. It'll hurt like heck, but I need to do it. It'll help figure out what's wrong."

"I-Isn't the nurse coming?" Jaune mumbled, and Ren nodded again.

"The nurse is on the way with Pyrrha, but I have an idea. It'll speed things along if I'm right."

Jaune's face pinched again but he, though reluctantly, moved his hands up. His fingers were shaking and he winced with every motion. Ren's touch was as gentle as could be but Jaune still bit his lip, trying not to make sounds as Ren gently rotated each hand at the wrist.

"Jaune?" Ren asked, and Nora _knew_ that he was right before he even said anything. She knew that tone of voice.

"Y-yeah, Ren?"

"How frequently have you been enhancing your hands lately?"

Jaune blinked, squinting for a moment before mumbling "Uh, a lot…"

Ren fixed him with an even stare and Jaune shrank away, wiggling deeper under his covers and muttering "Every massage since the first. A-and, um, a couple other times."

Ren's stare didn't shift, the question evident on his face as Jaune's face pinched before he finally relented "F-Four massages. One training session. And once in class."

Ren sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Is it safe to assume that these all took a while?"

Jaune didn't even answer, shrinking further away under Ren's gaze.

Ren, in turn, relented this time. He leaned back, his hands momentarily glowing with pink energy as he brought a finger against Jaune's. Before their skin could contact, Jaune's aura began sparking against Ren's, and Jaune yelped and yanked his hands away from his teammate.

"What was that!?" the blond cried out, and Ren sighed as he let his hands fall.

"That, Jaune, is what happens when you try and have your aura fix something that isn't broken. Your hands cramped, right? When you were giving massages?"

Jaune nodded and Ren continued before he could be interrupted.

"Your muscles probably weren't _torn_ , but they were cramped. Knotted. What you needed to do was stretch those muscles, not continue massaging and use Aura as a pain-reliever."

Jaune's face pinched and after a moment he asked, "I thought relief from pain was tied to healing injuries, though?"

Ren shook his head, leaning against his bed to look at Jaune more directly.

"Aura heals wounds but it can also, to a limited extent, help one ignore pain. It's minor, a little bit like how adrenaline helps you ignore pain, but it can dampen the sensation and let someone continue fighting in a situation where they otherwise might be overwhelmed."

Nora realized, in this moment, that Jaune looked significantly more distracted from his pain by this than he had when Ren was telling stories.

"Aura automatically heals wounds. Had there been damage to your muscles it would have repaired them, which is how hunters can get stronger so much faster than someone who isn't awakened. Since your hands weren't hurt, they couldn't be healed, but since you could ignore the pain using your aura you could keep taxing them in the exact same way that you had been. Enhancement helped you to ignore stiffness by generally boosting your range of motion and strength, but those muscles still got used over and over again."

Jaune's face took on a funny combination of embarrassed and sullen as Ren gave him what amounted to a dressing-down, if it felt like dressing-up in a disguise. Nora knew the feeling, having been on the receiving end of a Ren dad-talk before.

Ren stood up, giving Jaune a little room to sulk as he walked to Nora's side of the room before returning with a heating pad. It was one of Nora's favorites, which she was happy to loan to Jaune.

"I expect whichever nurse we get will have you doing some stretches, but this will help too." Ren said patiently, gently wrapping the fabric around Jaune's hand and plugging in the cord, the pad rapidly heating up. Jaune blinked, before groaning in relief as the heat began to soothe his muscles.

As if cued by the sound, the door opened.

* * *

Pyrrha stepped in, not-so-subtly rushing to Jaune's side as one of Beacon's medical staff followed her in, already giving a pleased look at the heating pad.

"Good, we can skip that. Hello, Jaune," the man began pleasantly, waiting for a nod from Ren before taking a seat on his bed.

"H-Hi, um, mister…" Jaune trailed off, squinting at the man's name tag. The nurse laughed gently, helpfully taking off the square of metal and handing it to the blond. As Jaune took it, the nurse gently grasped his hands, pulling away the heated fabric.

"It's pronounced 'eun-ya'. Lara Nja."

"Hi, mister Nja." Jaune said bashfully, flushing slightly at the man's beaming smile.

"Nailed it on the first try - nice! Some people struggle, even after hearing it. Now, Pyrrha gave me the rundown on the way here. You've been having severe hand pain for the past couple days and it got really bad today? By the way, I've brought some painkillers if you want them." He finished with a wry grin.

Jaune ducked his head at the reminder of how he had kept silent about it, turning the motion into a nod as he pointedly avoided Pyrrha's gaze.

"Well, I hope to relieve everyone here when I say that it isn't that bad at all. You two," he gestured to Nora and Ren, "had the right idea with putting heat on his hands."

"Oh, that was all Ren!" Nora chirped before her partner could say anything.

"Oh? Well, Ren, could you run through what brought you to that conclusion?"

Ren blinked, not expecting to be put on the spot, before shrugging and glancing at Pyrrha. "Jaune was giving massages for the past couple days. His hands began to cramp and using aura to relieve pain didn't actually heal anything, which made it get worse due to overuse?"

He ended on a questioning note, glancing back to the nurse who looked pleased once more.

" _Almost_ on the ball - There's one thing you missed. Aura automatically heals injuries, but we can force it to focus on certain ones to prioritize regeneration in certain places. If Jaune was forcing his aura to try and heal something that wasn't broken it probably was exacerbating the stress his muscles were under, trying to force them to promote healing when they didn't need it as well as causing them more pain."

Ren blinked, and Lara performed the same test Ren had. His finger glowed orange and sparked against Jaune's hands, causing the blond to hiss and try and yank his fingers away. Lara gently grasped his wrist, stopping him from doing so, and turned back to his audience after wrapping the heating pad around Jaune's hands once more.

"Overtaxing muscles and constant saturation of aura in locations when no healing is actually needed causes that sparking. Aura has collected there, the network in your hands bloated as your mind registers pain, your hands register stiffness and immobility, and repeated attempts to heal it have caused your aura to passively continue those attempts. Letting your hands relax and taking painkillers, which I just administered, will help to ease that effect."

Jaune blinked. Ren guessed that Lara had used his lecture, which had captivated Jaune's attention the whole time, to keep Jaune from noticing a very quick injection as he had rewrapped the blond's palms.

"I'll forward you a link to some stretches you can do when I get back to the office, Jaune." Lara said, standing up and waving off Pyrrha's thanks before she could even speak.

"No need to thank me, Pyrrha - I'm happy to help!" He finished with a beaming smile, collecting the bag he'd dropped by the door and giving them all a final wave, heading back to Beacon Medical as swiftly as he'd entered.

Nora returned to her place after a moment, snaking her fingers back into Jaune's hair as Pyrrha once more sat by his side, hesitantly grazing her fingers against his wrists and, when he gave a nod, began to rub gentle circles into them. Ren had no idea if the action itself was calming or the fact that it was Pyrrha was helping. Either way, Jaune's eyes drifted shut under the doting of his partner and teammate.

Invisible to his gaze, Ren stared evenly at Pyrrha, then rocked his head towards the door. She blinked, then nodded as her jaw set, and he nodded in turn.

"I'll be right back, Jaune. I will _also_ assist Nora in any leg-breaking that needs to occur if you decide you're doing _anything_ today like this."

Jaune closed his mouth, having prepared to retort. He flushed but looked somewhat happy at the same time.

He turned, slipping out of their room and finding himself in front of RWBY's door soon after. He checked his scroll, noting that it was well past 10 in the morning and if they weren't all up, they would be soon.

He firmly knocked, hearing the faint padding of steps before the door creaked open and a violet eye met his gaze. Yang's mouth snapped shut before whatever words she'd readied could be said, blinking in shock. He imagined he was the last person she'd expect to be at RWBY's door.

"Hi," Ren offered. "Can I come in?"

Yang looked even more taken aback. Ren figured that this was the first time in, well, ever, that he'd asked to come into their room. With a quick glance back (that he guessed was to make sure everyone was presentable) she nodded, opening the door wider. Ren smothered his amusement as he received double-takes from all three other members of team RWBY, stepping in and leaning against Yang's bed without even waiting to be offered a chair.

Weiss set her scroll down, cocking an eyebrow at him. "Can we help you?" She asked evenly. He was glad she wasn't predisposed to being cold to him, but at the same time he wasn't exactly presenting a friendly demeanour.

"Beacon medical just left our room." He began without preamble, gauging their reactions. Weiss blinked, Blake's eyes snapped up from her book to look at him, Ruby sat up abruptly, and Yang inhaled sharply.

That was good.

"Jaune's fine. He wasn't, though. Pain doesn't make him cry easily."

He knew he was laying it on a bit thick. It was a little disingenuous to present the story in this manner, but he needed to drive home this situation as best he could.

"Jaune? What's wrong with Jaune?" Ruby asked hurriedly, before blinking and turning a _very_ intense stare to her sister. Yang, for reasons Ren didn't know and didn't really care to ask about right now, looked sheepish.

"Jaune isn't particularly hurt," Ren cut back in, "I don't even think there was a risk of permanent damage, but the fact of the matter is that we got here at all."

"Where is 'here', Ren?" Blake asked evenly, marking the page in her book before closing it and setting it on the end table.

"It's a safe bet that all of you were involved in the massages I hear he was giving, yes?" They nodded, and so he continued. "Where 'here' is relates to the fact that Jaune is a massive idiot who doesn't-"

He cut himself off with a sigh, burying the long-grown irritation and letting his voice return to normal volumes.

"Jaune doesn't really _get_ that other people have an interest in him not being hurt. I don't even need to ask him to know that he didn't say anything about the pain he was in because he didn't want to bother any of you. As for what that pain was, he allowed cramped muscles in his hands to be exacerbated without proper care and stretches, using aura as a painkiller instead of saying anything."

"But-" Ruby paused, looking baffled, "why would that bother us?"

Underneath Ruby's line of sight, but well in Ren's, Weiss' eyes widened. He delayed his answer, watching her. When she realized he was looking at her, she shifted almost awkwardly and spoke up.

"Fear, right?"

Ren nodded.

"Fear?" Yang asked, blinking. "What's he afraid of?"

Ren laughed mirthlessly, gesturing to Weiss. She scowled as he realized the potential double meaning in his gesture, but the heiress continued nonetheless.

"Jaune...well, when he was giving me my foot rub we...talked, near the end. He said something about being afraid that I'd hate him because he…" She trailed off, looking decidedly uncomfortable. Yang seemed to grow an inch, inhaling to say something that he expected would be a joke, so he cut her off.

"Jaune, as far as I can tell, is just the kind of paranoid to fear that friendships with people are suddenly going to be revealed to be one big joke. Nora said that she liked playing with his hair, once, and he immediately went full-defensive and later admitted that he almost expected her to mock him because he _took care of his hair_."

In the corner of his eye Blake had cocked an eyebrow and Ren let out a grateful, yet _deeply_ exhausted sigh.

"See? From _one_ example it sounds so ridiculous, but...that's the problem. If we think of it as ridiculous then we ignore it, and stuff like this happens. Jaune decided his pain was less important than helping you, in no small part because he probably convinced himself none of you would want to spend time around him anymore if he asked for a short break to figure out what was wrong. It _is_ ridiculous, but that doesn't mean it isn't a real problem."

Yang fixed him with a look. He wasn't sure what it said, but it was at the very least encouraging. Ruby, who had watched all this in silence since her last comment, sat up a little straighter, and Ren too shifted his weight and stood straight, no longer leaning, as he addressed them all.

"We need to help him. Even if some of you aren't really close to him-" He paused, glancing at a disgruntled Weiss. "-it's the right thing to do. If not as a friend, than as a person. This...isn't healthy. It's a symptom of a bigger problem, a bigger shortcoming - and that _is_ what it is, that _needs_ to be taken care of if he's to grow. "

"This just feels so...out of nowhere." Weiss commented, raising her hands in a placating gesture when Ruby shot her a look. "I mean," she continued, "I've seen weird behaviors, well, I mean...anyway, to suddenly talk about how these problems _need_ to be fixed _right_ _now_..." She trailed off with an almost distracted shrug. Ren was about to respond when Yang suddenly spoke, her voice soft.

"The other day, Jaune looked like he was about to cry because I told him that I trusted him to do the right thing. That...isn't normal." Her voice was solemn, but her eyes firm and set on Ren. She turned to Weiss after a moment, continuing on. "So what if it came out of nowhere? It's a problem and we can try and fix it."

Weiss crossed her arms but did not refute her teammate, Blake speaking up next.

"Weiss has a point, though maybe not the one she meant. This just feels like it's being blown out of proportion. He got some cramps and sure, he should have said something, but you sound like you're giving a call to action at a major rally."

Ren opened his mouth to respond, paused, shut it, and then sighed. He tried again. "There's something to be said, certainly, about the differences in investment in friendship with him in this room. I probably care a fair bit more than some of you, because that's just how it is, but-"

"Something's still wrong, and we can help." Ruby finished for him, a stubborn look in her eyes as she faced her team. Yang grinned, sitting up a little straighter.

"Do we have a mission, leader?" she said with a laugh, but it was not playful or teasing. Ruby grinned back, and Ren found that he could recall no moment where they'd looked more like sisters than right then.

"Our friend needs to feel better about himself!" Ruby declared, looking around at her team atop her unbalanced perch. Weiss was silent, staring at her scroll blankly, and after a few moments of silence from her, Ruby swung her head down to look at her partner.

"It's more than just that, isn't it though," Weiss said, tracing a finger along the seams of her scroll. Ruby tilted her head in confusion and Blake spoke up, adding on to Weiss' thought.

"It's not just that he needs to feel better, Ruby, it's that he needs to value himself more." When Ruby did not look like she understood, Blake tried again. "He didn't say anything because he thought whatever pain he was in was less important than helping us, right? That's the problem, and it's more complicated than 'feel better'."

Ruby frowned, and Weiss finally spoke up in the ensuing silence.

"He holds himself to impossible standards," she began, setting her scroll down. "I remember now, something he said. It stuck in my mind at the time but slipped it, recently. He said he felt disgusting, or something to that effect, when he failed to meet those standards."

Yang gave a whistle, making the comment before anyone could stop her. "Man, you two really _connected_ then, huh?"

Weiss scowled, but Ren found a laugh bubbling in his chest. Smothering it, but not hiding his smile, he interrupted before anything could escalate.

"That explains a lot, Weiss. It also contributes in no small part to his lack of self esteem. As his friends, we need to help him with that."

Ruby nodded, the rest of her team following suit.

"I should return to the room. At some point we should talk about action we can take concerning this. Do you guys wanna make a group chat?"

Ren didn't know why Blake and Weiss immediately groaned and Yang cackled, but he figured he didn't really _want_ to know.

That conversation hadn't gone entirely as planned, and he still wasn't sure he was on the same page as some of them, namely Weiss, but they'd at least reached _something_. They could plan more from there.

For now, he had a leader to dote on or an idiot's legs to break. He hoped it was the former.

* * *

 **im running out of funny jokes to put here so uhhhhh lets be serious for a moment bois and grills**

 **I have received some reviews and PM's concerning the direction of the story. I recently updated the summary of the fic to better reflect my perspectives on that, but I'll add some more clarity here.**

 **This story, since I began updating once more earlier, was never going to be "just a story where Jaune massages hot girls." There is an actual plot planned out. At this point, there are three major arcs I've nailed down with many chapters in each. The catalytic event of the story is the massages Jaune is giving, but those will no longer be the main focus once their arc finishes. If you are concerned that I'm going off the walls without adequate planning - rest assured, I have an idea of what I'm doing.**

 **Also, if you're concerned that I will jump the shark again or go too dark, thank you for that concern. I am being vigilant about the direction this story goes so I don't end up cancelling it** _ **again**_ **. I want to balance funny pseudo-harem/polyship romance and fluff with the fact that things kinda go to shit, in the story. This chapter is weird because it seems like a veer straight into dark territory, but Weiss and Ren both have internal commentary on how this situation** _ **really isn't that bad.**_

 **To peek behind the curtain for a moment, what I'm expressing in this chapter is the fundamental** _ **difference**_ **in perspective between RWBY and NPR on Jaune, which is only slightly important when establishing romantic elements. I'm also expressing how (as many of you have figured out by this point) messed up and unhealthy Jaune's mindset is. That was intentional from the start of planning, over two years ago, and I am indeed going to go somewhere with it.**

 **Sorry for this departure from my usual jokes, but since the payoff for some of these elements is going to take a while, considering it's rather slow-burn, I wanted to ensure clarity that I do, in fact, have plans for these elements and if they are uncomfortable or weird, that is** _ **absolutely**_ **intentional.**

 **As always, thanks to my main bitch siderial, otherwise known as Akardos, for beta'ing my garbage. Love you honey 3**

 **And what is becoming a new as-always, thanks to spooky-noodle for proofing this chapter for clarity's sake as well as pointing out my technical and grammatical missteps. You're a huge help my dude.**

 **Cheers y'all,**

 **Stromael.**


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